The Great Troll Rescue Read online

  Contents

  1 A Storm Brewing

  2 Message in a Bottle

  3 The Huntsman’s Picnic

  4 Together Again?

  5 Intruders!

  6 The Magic Bum

  7 Room without a View

  8 Back to the Fewchur

  9 A Daring Escape

  10 An Evil Scheme

  11 The Turncoat

  12 What’s in a Name?

  13 The Witch’s Last Spell

  14 A Taste of His Own Medicine

  Red, Anansi, Rapunzel, Jack and his magical talking hen, Betsy, were sitting beneath the leafy branches of the Story Tree in the middle of Tale Town.

  The afternoon sun beat down upon them and the air was thick and heavy. Out to sea storm clouds were gathering – the weather wouldn’t hold for long.

  ‘What do you think Hansel and Gretel are up to?’ asked Red.

  ‘They said they were going camping with their dad,’ said Rapunzel.

  ‘Whaaaat?’ squawked Betsy, rolling her eyes. Although she was a talking hen, Betsy could only say the word ‘What’ – but somehow her friends always knew what she meant.

  Jack frowned. ‘It is weird, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘They go off on these trips to the woods with their dad, and then we don’t see them for weeks! But I saw their dad in town just this morning with another new wife – and she’s even worse than the last one. He was buying her a diamond-covered toilet-roll holder and looked really miserable.’

  They fell silent. Life in Tale Town was always slightly unusual, but what else would you expect in a place where stories literally grew on trees?

  The Story Tree was the reason that Tale Town got its name. On its branches grew every story that had ever been told near it. To ‘read’ the stories, all you had to do was run your finger along any branch or leaf and the tale would spring to life in your head. All the children had at least one or two stories growing on the Story Tree – even Anansi, who hadn’t been living there very long.

  ‘So Anansi, how’s your uncle Rufaro doing?’ asked Rapunzel. ‘Any news?’

  ‘Well, he still looks like a troll,’ replied Anansi. ‘So he’s still living in that stinking cave in the woods, away from all his friends and family, surviving on scraps of food, and water from that smelly pond.’

  ‘Hmm,’ replied Rapunzel. ‘So not that great, then?’

  ‘Not really,’ said Anansi with a sigh.

  It had been well over a year since almost all of Anansi’s family had been cursed to look, sound and smell like trolls. Only Anansi and his father still looked human. Nobody knew how it had happened, or why. More worryingly, nobody had the slightest clue how to turn them back. Even more worryingly, the people of Tale Town and the trolls had been at war for as long as anyone could remember. Without a cure, his family would never be able to come home.

  ‘And what about your mum?’ asked Jack. ‘Is she still on her way here?’

  Anansi brightened. ‘Yeah, she should arrive any day now! Dad sorted out a ticket on a boat from Far Far Away.’ He paused. ‘Well, I say a “ticket” . . . Let’s just say she’s on a boat.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Anansi,’ said Red, patting him on the arm, ‘I just know that Rufaro will be able to find a cure.’

  ‘I guess so,’ replied Anansi, but he didn’t sound hopeful.

  A large raindrop landed with a puff of dust on the dry ground and Jack glanced up.

  ‘Looks like it’s about to—’

  He was interrupted by a crash of thunder as huge, fat raindrops fell all around them. Everybody sprang to their feet and ran for cover.

  The captain had already given the order to abandon ship. The boat had been thrown on to a series of jagged rocks a mile or so from Tale Town and was taking on water. As the last of the lifeboats were lowered, a deep voice boomed from a huge box in the hold.

  ‘Hello? Is there anybody there? I don’t want to alarm you, but my feet are getting wet, and I just wondered if everything was OK? The boat’s not sinking, is it?’

  There was no response. By now water was halfway up the side of the crate which was printed with the words:

  ‘Yiiikes!’ squealed the voice as the water rose higher.

  It was hard to imagine such a deep and gravelly voice squealing, but somehow it managed it.

  ‘I’m going to come out now,’ the voice continued. ‘But just to warn you . . . I look a teeny bit like a troll. But I’m not really a troll! So, no spears or swords, right? Agreed?’

  Again there was no answer.

  The voice in the box muttered, ‘Here we go then . . .’ and with a crash the crate exploded outward, revealing a very large, very trolly-looking troll.

  The troll glanced around and realized that the ship definitely was sinking. It searched through its pockets until it found what it was looking for – a bright yellow bottle – then it scrambled up the steps towards the deck and leaped up the mast, climbing as fast as it could until it reached the crow’s nest. Shutting its eyes in concentration, the troll whispered a spell into the yellow bottle – then sealed it with a cork and flung it far out into the towering waves.

  Seconds later, the troll fell into the churning water, leaving a splash of white spray that was immediately swallowed up in the darkness of the storm.

  The next day, all anyone could talk about was the shipwreck. Red, Jack, Rapunzel, Anansi and Betsy were walking to the beach to see if anything exciting had washed up.

  Red shuddered. ‘I’m glad everyone made it back to shore,’ she said. ‘It must have been terrifying!’

  ‘I know!’ exclaimed Rapunzel, stroking her incredibly long plaits. ‘Imagine having to wash all that salt water out of your hair!’

  ‘That’s not exactly what I meant . . .’ began Red, but before she had a chance to finish, Old Bert wheeled his cart round the corner.

  Red groaned. She didn’t like seafood at the best of times, and Old Bert’s seafood-snack cart smelled very fishy.

  ‘Mornin’, small fry!’ Old Bert said with a toothy grin. ‘Which of me salty snacks will you be ’avin’ today?’

  Red looked around and realized her friends had vanished as quickly as Old Bert had appeared. She could see Jack’s feet poking out from underneath a bush, while Betsy was pretending to be the figurehead on a boat.

  ‘The thing is . . .’ replied Red, ‘I’ve only just had breakfast, so I’m, er, kind of full.’

  Old Bert chuckled. ‘Always room for a pot of me finest squid rings!’ he said, pulling out a grubby jar.

  ‘ Ewwww!’ exclaimed Red. ‘I mean, erm . . . I’ve not got enough money.’

  Bert’s eyes narrowed. ‘Well, I do ’ave some old fish tails going cheap – not even rotten yet – ’ow many d’yer want?’

  ‘Yes . . . but . . . I’m allergic to fish tails!’

  ‘Really?’ asked Bert, his needle-sharp eyes boring into her. ‘Just last week I sold you eight of ’em!’

  ‘I know!’ continued Red, shivering at the memory. ‘I think that was what did it.’

  A cunning smile stretched across Bert’s face. ‘As it happens I’m also sellin’ ice cream today,’ he said. ‘How does that grab yer?’

  ‘Really?’ asked Red, ‘Well, I probably could eat an ice cream . . .’

  Before Red knew what had happened, all her money was gone, she was holding an ice cream and Old Bert was hobbling off whistling a tuneless sea shanty.

  Red stood waiting on the path as, one by one, her friends reappeared.

  ‘Oh, hello. Nice of you to join me!’ she said, scowling. ‘I know you think Old Bert’s always tricking me into buying some horrid seafood thing, but not today!’ She waved the crumpled ice-cream cone at them triumphantly. ‘So you all missed out!’
r />   ‘WHAaAT?’ squawked Betsy, looking suspicious.

  ‘Oh, come on, Betsy!’ exclaimed Red. ‘Ice cream is ice cream, it’ll be lovely!’

  And with that she ripped off the packaging and took a huge bite.

  ‘GAhhhHhh!’ coughed Red. She looked in horror at the ice cream, over to her friends, and finally at the packaging in her hand. The label was clear for everyone to see:

  ‘Why would anyone do that?’ cried Red, throwing the ice cream in a bin and scraping at her tongue with her fingernails.

  ‘Red, Bert always tricks you into buying something, and it’s always horrible,’ said Anansi. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t be so trusting?’

  Red glared at him. ‘If I hadn’t trusted you when you first arrived in Tale Town, we wouldn’t all be friends now, would we?’

  Anansi looked at her. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘And I’m really glad you did, but –’

  ‘Hey, look at that!’ Rapunzel interrupted, pointing towards the shoreline.

  Bobbing against the sand was a yellow bottle filled with a strange glowing mist. When the children got nearer, the bottle spun around until it was pointing towards them. Then it hopped up out of the sea and started rolling up the beach.

  ‘Whoa!’ said Red as the bottle came to a stop at their feet. ‘It’s a message in a bottle!’

  ‘But who’s it for?’ wondered Jack.

  They peered at the bottle and the mist inside formed into different shapes, gradually becoming clearer and clearer:

  Anansi looked nervous as he bent to pick up the bottle and slowly pulled out the cork. As he did, the beach and his friends faded away. Anansi looked around in confusion. He was up in the crow’s nest of a ship, late at night. Rain fell all around him, but he couldn’t feel a thing. In front of him was a troll that he recognized – it was his mother!

  Anansi tried to hug her, but his arms passed right through her.

  Anansi’s mother stared straight ahead and spoke quickly:

  ‘Anansi, my darling! The ship is sinking! I’m close to Tale Town and can see an island that I can swim to – there is a mountain on it that looks like a squirrel’s nose. I’ll meet you there, at the base of the mountain, where the forest ends. Come as soon as you can. I love you, Anansi, stay safe!’

  The scene melted away and Anansi found himself back on the beach, surrounded by his friends.

  ‘Well?’ asked Jack expectantly. ‘What was the message? Who was it from?’

  ‘My mum,’ said Anansi. ‘And we need to find a boat that’ll take us to Squirrel-Nose Island – right now!’

  By lunchtime, Red, Anansi, Jack and Betsy were on board Tale Town’s most luxurious cruise liner – the Silver Spoon . Because Rapunzel’s parents were the King and Queen, she could get tickets for anything – being a princess was pretty handy sometimes.

  ‘WHAaAT?’ squawked Betsy loudly, flapping a wing towards the horizon.

  ‘Well, it’s called Squirrel-Nose Island because that big mountain looks like a squirrel’s nose,’ replied Jack.

  ‘Whaaaat?’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Jack. ‘Maybe it does look a bit more like a fox’s nose, but you couldn’t call it “Fox-Nose Island”, could you? That would just be silly!’

  Betsy rolled her eyes.

  ‘We’re nearly there!’ interrupted Anansi. ‘Let’s go on deck.’

  The cabin crew looked on in surprise as two scruffy boys, an even scruffier chicken, the royal princess and a girl in a bright red hood dashed out of the Royal Cabin. Still, they all had valid tickets (even the chicken), so the captain bowed as low as he could, although he did feel that standards were definitely slipping.

  They scrambled off the boat as quickly as they could and were soon running through the thick woodland.

  ‘Hurry up!’ shouted Anansi as Jack, Rapunzel and Red puffed and panted behind him. The path had narrowed to a single track winding upward through the trees with a steep drop down to the valley below.

  Even Betsy was doing the fastest jump–hop–wing-flap–glide that she could, but she didn’t look happy about it. Hens aren’t known for their athletic ability, even magical ones.

  There was a stone in Red’s shoe and it was getting really annoying. She stopped for a moment to shake it out, but just as she was retying her shoe the lace snapped. ‘Typical!’ Red muttered as she fished around in her pockets for some string. But by the time she had fixed her laces, everyone else had gone.

  ‘Hello?’ she called.

  There was no reply.

  Desperate not to be left behind, Red started running as fast as she could. Suddenly her foot slipped on a stone and she skidded towards the edge of the path. For a moment her arms spun wildly, before she completely lost her balance and went tumbling down to the valley below.

  ‘. . . Aaarggggghhhhh aaarggggghhhhh aaarggggghhhhh!’ yelled Red. She’d been yelling for quite some time now. The world seemed to have stopped spinning though, so she stopped screaming and opened one eye.

  She squinted up at a man with more than his fair share of battle scars, less than his fair share of teeth, and half the usual number of eyes.

  ‘You all right?’ asked the man gruffly. ‘I thought you was never going to stop screaming!’

  ‘Well, I did just fall down a cliff!’ replied Red. ‘Or at least –’ she squinted up at the path – ‘down a really steep hill. I bet you’d have screamed too!’

  ‘Not me, missy. I’m a huntsman, see. All that screaming sort of thing is drilled out of you at Huntsmen’s College – can’t go around being all soft when you do this job.’

  ‘No, I suppose not . . .’ said Red cautiously. Everyone knew that in Tale Town, huntsmen had to do all sorts of horrible things, usually for the most wicked of wicked witches. It was just the way it had always been.

  ‘So, er, what are you doing here?’ Red asked, trying to sound casual. ‘Not, you know, looking for people to kidnap or anything?’

  The huntsman grinned. ‘Goodness me, no! Well, not right now – it’s my lunch break. I was just having a picnic. At least, I was till you showed up!’ He tugged at the corner of a pretty gingham blanket that Red was sprawled on top of, covered in crumpled paper plates and squashed sandwiches.

  ‘Oh, right . . . sorry about that,’ said Red.

  ‘Can’t be helped,’ the huntsman said. He looked up at the path that Red had just tumbled down from. ‘There’s a quicker way up to Squirrel-Nose Mountain from down here, if that’s where you’re heading,’ he added. ‘Want me to show you the way?’

  Red mulled this over. On the one hand this man was a stranger and a huntsman, which meant that he almost certainly worked for a wicked witch. On the other hand, he was on his lunch break, and she did need to find her friends as quickly as possible. ‘OK,’ she replied, and after helping the huntsman to pack up his squashed sandwiches, they set off.

  ‘So . . . what brings you to this here island?’ asked the huntsman.

  ‘It’s kind of a funny story,’ said Red. ‘You see, me and my friends are meeting a troll at the bottom of the mountain.’

  ‘A troll?’ replied the huntsman eagerly. ‘Not many of them on Squirrel-Nose Island – and I should know!’

  ‘Oh? And why’s that?’

  ‘Um . . . no reason,’ replied the huntsman quickly.

  There was a long silence.

  ‘So . . . you like picnics?’ asked Red, changing the subject.

  ‘Only in the woods,’ replied the huntsman, ‘I love woods, forests, thickets, coppices, dingles . . . well, trees in general. See, I always wanted to be a woodsman when I was a kid.’

  ‘My dad’s a woodsman!’ said Red proudly. ‘There’s nothing that he can’t do with a felled tree. Cupboards, benches, you name it, he makes it – although his wooden balloons weren’t all that great, and sometimes it would be nice to shower in water rather than wood chippings . . .’

  The huntsman smiled at her. ‘Best job in the world!’ he replied, going all misty-eyed. ‘None of this “ collectin’
hearts in boxes”, or “lockin’ up all the girls what’s prettier than the wicked witch”, like I have to do! But I don’t have any choice.’ He paused for a moment, looking incredibly sad.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Red.

  ‘Well, there was just one place at the local woodcutting school when I was little, and my brother, well, he cut down his first tree aged three and carved it into a boat by the time he was four – so of course, he got the place. And I got packed off to Huntsmen’s College.’

  ‘That’s so sad!’ said Red. ‘But surely, you don’t have to be a huntsman, there must be lots of other jobs you could do?’

  ‘P’raps,’ replied the huntsman thoughtfully. ‘I always liked the idea of dragon conversation.’

  ‘Don’t you mean “conservation”?’ asked Red. ‘As in, looking after dragons?’

  The huntsman shook his head. ‘Nah. I mean “conversation”. You know, helping dragons get better at small talk. Chatting to folk at parties, that sort of thing. Poor souls. Everyone thinks they’re all confident just because they can breathe fire. But it’s tough being all big and scary-looking, nobody gives you the time of day . . .’ He sighed heavily, then glanced down at his watch. ‘Crikey! Lunch is almost over – you’d best get going. I ain’t allowed to be nice while I’m on duty. Truth be told, I don’t think I’m ever meant to be nice. So come on, get a move on – just up that way and on your left.’

  Red scrambled up on to the path. She turned to thank the huntsman – but he’d vanished.

  Red ran along the path, calling her friends. It wasn’t long before she heard an answering shout.

  ‘Red!’ yelled Jack. ‘Are you OK? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.’