The Magic Looking Glass Read online

  Contents

  1 Trimming the Story Tree

  2 A Pale Imitation

  3 A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

  4 The Green Man’s Lair

  5 Body Snatcher

  6 Role Reversal

  7 Be Your Own Wolf

  8 The Instruction Manual

  9 A Comedy of Errors

  10 Through the Looking Glass

  11 The Dilemma

  12 The Awakening

  13 The Truth Will Out

  14 The Secret Garden

  It was the annual trimming of the Story Tree and everyone in Tale Town was excited. Even Sleeping Beauty was excited and she wasn’t even awake, but she looked excited – sort of. The Story Tree was the reason that the town had first got its name – every one of its many leaves contained a different story. To ‘read’ them, all you had to do was run your finger along the leaf, and that story would happen inside your head.

  With every new story that was told nearby, a new branch or shoot would sprout on the tree, so it could easily get very overgrown. This is why every year the oldest stories were trimmed from the tree, dried out, and turned into scrolls that were kept in a vault deep beneath the Tale Town library.

  Huge crowds had gathered to watch the ceremony, and Jack and Betsy, his magical talking hen, struggled to push their way to the front to meet their friends.

  ‘Excuse me!’ called out Jack as he elbowed his way past three little pigs and three much larger bears. ‘Coming through!’

  squawked Betsy as she hopped up and down in front of Jack.

  ‘Sorry?’ said Jack. ‘What was that, Betsy?’

  Betsy rolled her eyes. The only word she’d ever been able to say was ‘what’, but somehow Jack always knew what she meant. Recently he’d been trying to teach her some more polite words, like ‘pardon’, but it wasn’t really working out.

  shrieked Betsy crossly.

  ‘Oh! I see . . .’ said Jack. ‘You’re right, that is Sausage-Face Fitch, but you shouldn’t call him that – Mayor Fitch would go crazy if he heard you! Come on, the ceremony’s about to begin!’

  ‘Hey, Jack –’

  ‘– there you are!’ said Hansel and Gretel as Jack finally got to the front of the crowd. The twins were close – very close. Sometimes they could have whole conversations just by waggling their eyebrows at each other.

  ‘Hi, everyone!’ called Jack, waving at his friends. Hansel, Gretel, Red and Anansi all waved back. ‘Have I missed anything?’ he added.

  ‘Not really, but –’

  ‘– Mayor Fitch is still –

  ‘– doing his speech!’ replied Hansel and Gretel.

  The mayor was standing behind a podium, his shiny, pink face gleaming in the sunlight. He lifted up the ancient stone tablet that the poem ‘Live Long the Story Tree’ was carved into. Everyone in Tale Town knew the poem, which had been carved into the stone for almost as long as the town had been there:

  Anansi scowled while two grumpy-looking spiders, perched on each of his shoulders, clacked their legs together crossly. Some people are afraid of spiders, but not Anansi: he loved them – and they loved him too.

  ‘What is it, Anansi?’ asked Jack, noticing his friend’s stormy expression. ‘I know we’ve all heard the poem a million times, but it’s not that bad!’

  ‘It’s not the poem . . . it’s HIM,’ hissed Anansi, nodding towards Mayor Fitch. ‘He pretends to be nice, but he can’t be trusted! It’s because of the trick he played on my Uncle Rufaro and his troll friend Hurrilan when they were children that my family are cursed to look like trolls!’

  ‘I still can’t believe that Rufaro was friends with a troll when he was young,’ said Red. ‘Especially now Hurrilan’s the troll leader!’

  ‘Back then Hurrilan was an outcast,’ explained Anansi. ‘He was living all alone in the woods and he saved Rufaro’s life, remember?’ His voice was lost in the roar of the crowd as everyone became very excited.

  The Sacred Shiny Story-Snipping Shears had just been brought out by the mayor’s guards. There was a spell of protection on the Story Tree, and the only way that anything could be cut from it was by using these magical shears. Mayor Fitch was holding them high above his head, preparing to make the first ceremonial snip, when a scream rose up through the crowd.

  ‘TROLLS!’ someone yelled. ‘The trolls are coming!’

  Immediately, Mayor Fitch’s guards shot over to protect him, shoving the old lady who lived in a shoe into a muddy puddle. Jack and the others ran to help her as the rest of the crowd scattered.

  In all the confusion, the mayor had dropped the Sacred Shiny Story-Snipping Shears, and nobody but Jack seemed to have noticed. As his hand reached out to pick up the shears, he was barged out of the way by a large, blue creature with webbed fingers and brightly glowing eyes.

  ‘I’ll have those!’ said the creature, smiling a thin smile packed full of needle-sharp teeth. It waved its hand and a torrent of water flooded over Jack and Betsy, sending them skidding backwards over the ground.

  gurgled Betsy.

  ‘It’s a water troll!’ cried Jack as he struggled to get to his feet in the muddy water. ‘But how did it get past the Moonstone defences?’

  Moonstone was the only thing that kept trolls out of Tale Town. The magical rocks weakened their magic and made them feel dizzy and sick – but something had obviously gone wrong.

  Using the shears, the water troll hacked down the freshest, newest sprout from the Story Tree, then sprinted off – taking the shears and the cutting with him.

  Far away in the mountains, at the very edge of the trolls’ land, smoke from a small, flickering fire rose up through a hole in the centre of a tent. Facing the fire was a large wooden throne covered in goatskins, upon which sprawled a tall, thin figure – a hooded cloak covering its face in darkness.

  The entrance flap to the tent swung open and a broad, stocky earth troll bustled in.

  ‘Hurrilan, sir,’ he started, ‘The troops are wondering –’

  ‘Did I call for you?’ interrupted the tall, thin figure.

  ‘Er, well, no, but . . .’

  ‘Then leave,’ said Hurrilan. He moved one blue-green hand, making his fingers look as if they were turning around and walking away. The earth troll turned around and walked out with strange jerky movements, a look of horror on his face as he realized he was being controlled by Hurrilan’s magic.

  Moments later, a swirling light appeared in the middle of the tent and slowly formed into the shape of a man. He looked as though he was made of glass, almost completely see-through.

  ‘You’re late,’ snapped Hurrilan.

  ‘Sorry,’ said the figure. ‘You know how it is. Things always take longer than . . .’ he trailed off. ‘Still, I’m here now!’ he added in a mumble.

  ‘Will it work?’ asked Hurrilan. ‘Will the cutting from the Story Tree grow?’

  ‘Definitely,’ replied the figure. ‘As long as your trolls can bring the cutting to me before sunset, I can make it grow.’

  A smile crept across Hurrilan’s face. ‘Excellent!’ he exclaimed. ‘In that case, as soon as the cutting takes root and you find a suitable host . . . you will get what you want.’

  The glass figure smiled greedily. ‘Thank you!’ he said, ‘Thank you for this—’

  Hurrilan waved a hand and the transparent figure dissolved like a breaking wave. He leaned back slowly on his throne and smiled broadly. Soon the trolls would have their own Story Tree; soon their stories would be heard.

  As soon as it was discovered that the Sacred Shiny Story-Snipping Shears and a cutting from the Story Tree had been stolen, Mayor Fitch announced that everyone had to go home and stay in their houses. The Moonstone defences had be
en turned into mushrooms where the trolls came in, which meant that someone in Tale Town had allowed this to happen – someone with magic – and until the truth was discovered, nobody was allowed to do anything.

  Rapunzel and her parents, the King and Queen, were away on an important royal engagement,1 otherwise there was no way that the mayor would have got away with forcing everyone to stay at home – especially as Rapunzel’s father often called Mayor Fitch ‘that horribly slimy man’, even when they were in the same room.

  Red, Anansi, Jack and Betsy were all being led back to their homes by a member of Mayor Fitch’s guard. ‘This is crazy!’ whispered Jack. ‘Nobody would let trolls in on purpose!’

  ‘Perhaps . . .’ replied Anansi, ‘But if you ask me, Sausage-Face Fitch is enjoying all this a bit too much. You know how much he hates Rapunzel’s parents – he wants to be completely in charge of Tale Town.’

  ‘But we all saw the trolls take the cutting and the shears,’ said Red, looking sideways at the guard to check he wasn’t listening. ‘Mayor Fitch certainly looked scared . . .’

  ‘Well, yeah,’ started Anansi. ‘But that doesn’t mean—’

  ‘Silence!’ barked the guard. ‘We’ll have less talk, and more walk! Do you think I’ve got nothing better to do?’

  said Betsy quietly, and Jack burst out laughing.

  ‘What?’ snapped the guard. ‘What’s so funny?’

  added Betsy, her eyes glinting mischievously.

  ‘Someone tell me what that bird just said,’ growled the guard, ‘or I’m havin’ chicken nuggets for lunch tomorrow!’

  ‘She just said that you do look very busy,’ said Jack, and the guard nodded self-importantly. ‘Too busy to take a bath!’ Jack added in a whisper.

  Red and Anansi sniggered and then Anansi said in a hushed voice, ‘Wait a minute . . . What happened to Hansel and Gretel?’

  Hansel and Gretel were walking through the woods outside Tale Town. As soon as the mayor’s guards had started rounding people up, they had managed to slip silently away.

  ‘What do you think is going on with Sausage-Face Fitch?’ asked Hansel. ‘Why would he put the whole town on lockdown?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Gretel. ‘I guess he thinks someone’s helping the trolls. How about we –’

  ‘– follow the troll’s tracks? See if we can find out what’s going on?’ finished Hansel. ‘Good idea.’ He pointed down to a roughly snapped branch and a large footprint on the forest floor.

  ‘This is almost too easy!’ said Gretel, then paused. ‘Do you think we should tell Dad what we’re doing?’

  ‘I thought he was off on holiday with our new stepmum, Valerie?’

  ‘Oh yeah! I forgot. I thought she was called Susan, though?’

  ‘No, Susan was last year,’ corrected Hansel. ‘Then there was Andrea, then Atsuko and now Valerie. She’s OK, I guess . . . not as bossy as Susan – and nowhere near as mean as Atsuko.’

  ‘She was the worst!’ agreed Gretel. ‘Always sending us off on those picnics in Bear Maul woods, and those swimming trips in Piranha Lagoon! Wasn’t it weird that she always forgot to bring her own swimming things?’

  They walked on in silence for a while, wondering who it was that decided that all stepmothers in the Fairytale Kingdom had to be awful – it was a really annoying law.

  The twins had been following the trolls’ trail for almost half a day. They had stopped by a babbling brook to have something to eat, but the brook just kept on babbling. At first they’d listened politely – but it just wouldn’t stop talking – so they’d crept silently away.

  They were walking on through the woods when Gretel stopped abruptly and sniffed the air. ‘Wolves!’ she hissed. ‘I can smell them.’ She stopped and sniffed again, then frowned, looking confused.

  ‘I can smell something else too . . .’ Hansel added. ‘Is that –’

  ‘– fabric softener?’ said Gretel. They looked at each other, then crept through the bushes towards the scent.

  In the middle of a small clearing sat a wolf. He was only young, little more than a cub, and he didn’t look very scary – partly because his face looked so open and gentle, and his fur seemed so soft that it might have been blow-dried, but mainly because he was wearing a jaunty little cap and had a handkerchief tied around his neck.

  ‘You can come out if you want,’ said the wolf, ‘I can hear you rustling about.’

  ‘Oh . . . er –’

  ‘– right . . . will do,’ said Hansel and Gretel as they scrambled out of the bushes.

  ‘Are you from Tale Town?’ asked the wolf.

  Hansel and Gretel looked at each other, having one of their silent, eyebrow-wiggling conversations as they tried to work out whether they could trust this wolf cub. Like trolls, wolves were bad news in Tale Town, but this young cub seemed different.

  ‘Yes,’ they said, eventually. ‘We are.’

  ‘Oh I would love to visit Tale Town!’ said the wolf wistfully. ‘Just imagine . . . The buzz! The cafes! The parties! But my dad won’t have any of it. He’s always like “Wolves are wolves, son! We’re not like them. We eat, we scheme, we steal, we go to the toilet OUTSIDE in the woods and we don’t, on ANY account, use toilet paper”.’ The young wolf wrinkled his nose. ‘Seriously! He expects me to use leaves or something – it’s totally gross!’

  ‘You’re not like any of the other wolves I’ve ever met,’ said Hansel. ‘You seem so much more . . .’

  ‘Soft? Lame? Feeble? Un-terrifying? Pathetic?’ asked the wolf. ‘Yes, I’ve heard it all before . . .’

  ‘I was going to say nice, actually,’ said Hansel. ‘Anyway, I’m Hansel and this is Gretel.’

  ‘I’m Wolfson, born of Greymist, grandson of Throat-Rip the Destroyer,’ replied the wolf. ‘But I prefer Wolfie. I’ve never liked having ‘Throat-Rip’ in my name. So aggressive!’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Gretel with a smile.

  ‘So, what are you doing out here?’ asked Wolfie. ‘You’re a long way from home.’

  Hansel and Gretel told Wolfie all about what had happened back in Tale Town – how the trolls had stolen a cutting from the Story Tree along with the sacred shears, and how the mayor had put the whole town on lockdown until he got to the bottom of it all. They explained that they were going to try to get back the shears and the cutting.

  Wolfie’s eyes flashed with excitement. ‘Oh, I would love to do something like that!’ he said. ‘Doing something good, for once! I’m always saying to Dad, “We should try to make friends in Tale Town, you know? Stop swallowing up grandmothers whole. People just don’t like that sort of thing, it makes them feel sad. Why would you want to make people sad?” ’

  ‘I always thought it was –’

  ‘– instinct or something?’ said Hansel and Gretel.

  ‘Well, maybe,’ said Wolfie. ‘But no more! I’m going to show Tale Town that not all wolves are bloodthirsty granny gobblers and pig-tricking cheats and liars! I’m going to come with you! I’m going to prove that wolves . . . can be good!’ He paused, slightly out of breath after his speech. ‘Er, that’s as long as you guys don’t mind if I tag along?’

  The twins laughed. ‘The more the merrier!’ they said in unison.

  ‘Do you need to get anything before we go?’ asked Gretel.

  ‘Actually, it’s probably best that I don’t go back home first,’ replied Wolfie. ‘Dad might ask questions and—’

  ‘WOLFSON!’ roared a deep, growling voice through the trees.

  Wolfie’s eyes shot wide open. ‘It’s Dad!’ he whispered frantically. ‘Hide!’

  ‘Who you talkin’ to?’ demanded the voice, getting closer now. ‘I can smell ’umans!’

  Wolfie’s eyes twitched this way and that as he tried to work out what to do. Then he had an idea. ‘Run!’ he whispered. ‘As fast as you can!’

  ‘It’s . . . er, humans all right, Dad!’ he shouted back to his father. ‘I’d been tracking them for ages and now you’ve scared them off!’ />
  ‘Well, blow me! I’m sorry,’ bellowed the huge, grizzled grey wolf as he burst into the clearing. ‘I didn’t realize. Still, we can catch ’em and tear them apart together.’

  ‘Um, thanks, Dad,’ said Wolfie. ‘But this is something I really want to do myself. I’ll, er . . . totally gut them and . . .’ He paused uncertainly. ‘Wear their toes as a necklace?’

  ‘Good lad, Wolfson!’ chuckled Wolfie’s dad, or as most people called him, the Big Bad Wolf. ‘I always knew you had it in yer!’

  Hansel and Gretel always thought that they were the best at following trails, tracks, breadcrumbs, stones, or the delicious scent of gingerbread – but that was before they met Wolfie. He might not have enjoyed some of the more grisly things about being a wolf, but it did give him an amazing sense of smell and hearing. It wasn’t long before they found themselves outside a huge wooden wall that grew right out of the ground.

  ‘What is –’

  ‘– this place?’ marvelled Hansel and Gretel. Brambles were woven in and around the living wall; thorns the size of hands spiking dangerously outward.

  ‘I’ve been here before,’ said Wolfie thoughtfully. ‘But it didn’t look like this! The wall was much lower and there were lots of plants and flowers growing everywhere. A Green Man lived here, a kind of nature wizard. He loved everything about nature – even wolves! But now it feels so unfriendly.’

  ‘And, this is where –’

  ‘– the trail ends?’ asked Hansel and Gretel.

  ‘Afraid so,’ said Wolfie, shivering a bit. ‘So I guess we’d better go back and tell someone else? You know, like someone big, with weapons and an army and stuff?’