Fiend of the Seven Sewers Read online

  The gaggle of Latrina’s soldiers lugged me out of the palace and headed for a steep narrow road that led high up the edge of the great cistern. I followed it with my eyes and spotted a huge building with soaring grey walls and not a window in sight. Where the royal palace was beautiful, this place looked about as welcoming as a hug from a great white shark.

  ‘Ooh, the queen picked a good one,’ Lickspittle snickered as she jumped and skipped about alongside the marching goblins. ‘I think I’d rather be eaten by Doris than end up in Grimegorn!’

  ‘S’right,’ Flott replied. ‘No one gets out of that place.’

  We trudged closer and closer to the frightful-looking building, and the nearer we got, I could feel my last little grains of hope trickling away. I was about to be locked up for ever and ever, and I’d never see my BRILLIANT home or my family again.

  Forgive me while I have another little cry – oh, all right – a huge belly-bungling sob.

  END OF THE LINE…

  And that was that…

  I don’t really have much else to tell you, my reader friend.

  It didn’t take long for the goblin guards to carry me inside that scary and unfriendly place, march me along a maze of windowless corridors, and throw me into a cell… and… I’ve been here ever since.

  I’m eighty-seven now, with wonky teeth like cobble stones and hair so long and white, I can use it as a blanket at bedtime.

  Thanks for reading my story and hope you had fun.

  Bye, then…

  FOOLED YOU!!

  Ha! You didn’t actually think one of my stories would end so miserabump and glumly, did you? Of course it doesn’t! I’d never let it get so boring.

  We haven’t even got to the exciting stuff yet, I promise. There’s plenty more to read about.

  Where were we?

  CELLMATES

  ‘EUUURGH!’

  The goblin guards walked me along a maze of Grimegorn’s windowless corridors until we reached a large metal grate in the floor. Then, without so much as a last word or a goodbye, the rottlers lifted it and dropped me inside.

  I braced myself for a painful bump like the one I got after I fell through Bambus Boatswig’s ceiling… But instead I landed on something thick and soft and hairy.

  ‘OH, CRIPES!’ A startled lady’s voice spoke in the darkness. ‘Not again.’

  I felt a mammoth hand reach up and pat me gently, and then it scooped its fingers round my belly and lifted me into the gloomy air.

  ‘I need to stop sitting under that blunking grate, so help me,’ the voice continued.

  My magical eyes began adjusting to the shadows, helped by small lanterns glowing on the walls, and I watched as shapes started to appear.

  ‘Round we come…’ The mammoth hand twisted me upright, and I saw I was being held by a colossal… ummm… thing.

  ‘Are you all right there, friend?’ she asked, her warm brown eyes blinking questioningly at me. ‘That horrible queen’s guards never give anyone any warning around here.’

  Coming face to face with what seemed like a friendly creature, especially after she beamed a great big smile, I could have wet my pants with happiness and relief. But I didn’t think she’d appreciate me widdling in her hand, so I smiled back instead.

  ‘I think so,’ I stammered. ‘Did I land on your head?’

  ‘Indeed you did,’ the huge creature chuckled. ‘And good luck too. We’re a long way from the floor.’

  I glanced down and saw that I was high up near the rafters of the pitch-dark cell. Whoever this hairy lady-creature was, her head was wedged right near the roof.

  ‘I’m Mrs Morkie, darling,’ she said. ‘Biddy Morkie. You made me jump, so you did, but there’s no harm done.’

  She examined me, like she’d just picked up something interesting at a jumble sale.

  ‘So, who do I have the pleasure of plucking off my bonce?’

  ‘I’m Frankie Banister,’ I said. ‘From The Nothing To See Here Hotel.’

  ‘Well, I never,’ Mrs Morkie chuckled. ‘My old dadsy stayed there once, years and yearlies ago. Showed me all the photographs, he did.’

  ‘Really?’ I gasped.

  ‘Really!’ Mrs Morkie replied. ‘He was too big to fit in any of the rooms, so those nice owners… umm… Regurgita and Albert made him a comfy bed from over a hundred sofa cushions in the foyer. He took up the whole space. Haha!’

  ‘They’re my granny and grandad! I said, feeling so happy to be talking about home. ‘It’s actually Regurgita and Abraham…’

  ‘Oh yes, that’s right! My mistake.’

  ‘And they’re not quite my granny and grandad. They’re my great-great-great-granny and -grandad.’

  ‘Blow me over with a blurtle’s blow-hole!’ Mrs Morkie huffed. ‘Has it been that long?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Frankie Banister,’ the hairy giantess said. ‘Come in and have a cup of tea.’

  ‘You have to stop offering everybody tea, Morkie!’ Another voice came out of the darkness somewhere below us. ‘We haven’t even got a teapot! Or a stove!’

  I jolted with surprise. The huge fluffly creature had made me feel so suddenly calm and relaxed, my heart almost leaped into my throat when a different voice yelled.

  ‘Oh, you’d better meet…’ Mrs Morkie lowered me down to the ground and as my troll-eyes adjusted further, I saw a young faun walking towards me from the shadows carrying a candle, his hooves clip-clicking on the stone floor as he walked.

  ‘Hello.’ The faun extended a free hand to shake mine. He couldn’t have been much older than me. ‘I’m Gullivantus,’ he said. ‘But everyone calls me Gully.’

  ‘Frankie,’ I said. ‘Nice to meet you, Gully.’

  ‘Nice to meet you too. It’s been ages since anyone has been thrown into Grimegorn.’ Gully smiled, twitching one eyebrow mischievously. ‘Do you know any jokes?’

  I shook my head. There was no way I could remember any jokes just now.

  ‘Never mind,’ Gully said, grinning. ‘Maybe later. At least we’ll have something new to talk about – other than tea.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry,’ Mrs Morkie winced. ‘It’s a force of habit. You can’t spend two thousand years making endless mugs of ragwort tea and then just forget about it. It’s like an itch that needs scratching.’

  The giant fur-ball towering up near the murky ceiling laughed a deep resounding laugh.

  ‘Wow! You’re two thousand years old?’ I gasped.

  ‘Who’s counting?’ the enormous fluffball chortled.

  ‘You don’t look a day over one thousand seven hundred!’ Gully giggled. ‘You’re practically a spring chicken.’

  I don’t think I’d ever heard a nicer sound than friendly voices laughing at that moment.

  ‘Mrs Morkie, if you don’t mind me asking,’ I said as politely as possible, ‘what are you? I’ve got hundreds of magical nature books back at home, only I’ve never seen anything like you in any of them.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have, sweetheart,’ Mrs Morkie answered. ‘My kind went into hibernation yonks and yonkers ago. I’m a cuddlump. Back in the old times, when humans and magicals lived peacefully and everyone needed a bit of a hug and some comforting tea once in a while, whole villages would visit us and have picnics on our bellies. It was lovely. We were the dinner ladies of the Dark Ages.’

  ‘The Dark Ages!? What were they like?’ I couldn’t help myself. ‘I read a book about them in our library.’

  ‘It was pitch-black. You couldn’t see a thing!’ The cuddlump shrugged. ‘Kept tripping over everything. Trees were a nightmare.’

  I smiled and wanted to ask more, but a cold breeze suddenly ripped through the cell and I remembered where I was with a nervous jolt.

  Turning to look around, I saw for the first time that our dark jail had three stone walls and then one made entirely from tall iron bars.

  ‘Welcome to your new home,’ said Gully, noticing me glancing about. ‘It’
s not as bad as it first seems. The toadstools outside have shrivelled for the day, but they’ll grow back by the morning. Then you’ll get a much clearer view of the place.’

  I walked up to the bars and peered through. Even my magical eyesight couldn’t pierce the gloom beyond them.

  ‘So, this is prison?’ I sighed after a while.

  ‘Prison!?’ Mrs Morkie said.

  ‘Not quite. Is that what they told you?’ asked Gully.

  ‘Well… Umm…’ I racked my brains. ‘They didn’t tell me anything.’

  ‘Oh, those blunking goblins,’ Mrs Morkie snapped. She eyed me with a look of sympathy on her huge face. ‘I think we should all just get some sleep, and everything will be a lot clearer when the mushrooms come up.’

  I didn’t like the sound of that, but the mention of sleep reminded me of how exhausted I was. Who knew how many hours had passed since being grabbed in the hotel library?

  ‘D’you want to snuggle in?’ Mrs Morkie asked sweetly. ‘You must be chilled to the chungles.’

  ‘Yes, please.’ I took off my bell-hop jacket and folded it into a pillow, then curled up next to the cuddlump’s warm and fluffy ankle and immediately fell asleezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

  RUDE AWAKENINGS

  Something hard and slightly wet bounced off my head with a dull thud, waking me from the deepest sleep I think I’d ever had.

  ‘Ow!’ I yelped.

  ‘Good morning, Frankie!’ Mrs Morkie’s voice beamed above me. ‘Did you snooze well?’

  ‘Yep!’ I yawned. The prison cell was light again now, and I spotted a half-chewed apple core on the ground next to me. The cuddlump must have been eating her breakfast and accidentally dropped it on my head.

  ‘I’ve just been chatting to your little friend here,’ Mrs Morkie continued. ‘You didn’t tell me there were two of you last night.’

  ‘Hmmm?’ I shuffled to my feet, wondering if I’d heard correctly in my dozy state. Then I looked up and…

  ‘VISCERA!? What are you doing here!?’

  There, sitting on a tuft of Mrs Morkie’s knee-hair like it was a tiny bed, was Princess Von Tangle herself.

  ‘What do you think I’m doing here, Banister boy?’ she snapped. The tiny piskie looked furious.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. Was I still asleep?

  ‘I’ll tell you,’ she squeaked. ‘I knew that thing wasn’t your mumsy the second I peeked into the stupid blunking library.’

  ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’ I blurted.

  ‘I DID!’ Viscera shrieked. ‘I climbed straight up the back of your trousers and into your jacket pocket, and I’M ROYALTY! IN A POCKET! WE DON’T DO THINGS LIKE THAT, YOU KNOW! I was yelling as loudly as I could, but as soon as that thing prattle-peaced you, it got me too!’

  I felt like my jaw was about to hit the floor.

  ‘By the time we got our voices back, there was no use trying to holler over a squillion gabbling goblins. I’ve been jabbing you in the ribs for hours, but you’ve been ignoring me!’

  ‘So, that’s what was poking me!’ I said. ‘I had no idea!’

  ‘Well, while you were being taken off for a jolly trolliday, I was practically squished, you brainless bungle!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Viscera,’ I said. ‘I have been a bit preoccupied.’

  ‘Then you folded your jacket up like a pillow and nearly flattened me into piskie-pancakes with your massive head!’

  ‘Well.’ Mrs Morkie chuckled awkwardly. ‘We’re all here now, and that’s the main thing.’

  Just then, Gully wandered over, scratching one of his horns.

  ‘What’s all the fuss?’ he asked lazily. ‘I thought I heard another… OH!’

  ‘This is Vis… err… Visca… Vipsy…’ Mrs Morkie tried to say. ‘Vizzy… Victor?’

  ‘I am Viscera Von Tangle of the Lower Lumplands. Princess of the Piskish, Sovereign of the Squatlings, and I am NOT IN THE MOOD!’

  ‘Right!’ Gully gulped nervously. ‘The pleasure is all mine.’

  ‘Princess Von Tangle lives in the kitchen cupboard at the hotel. It turns out she was in my pocket this whole time,’ I explained to the faun as he eyed the little piskie the way someone would look at an unexploded bomb. ‘Viscera tried to warn me and… I didn’t pay attention.’

  ‘Ah, that’s not too great, is it?’ Gully pulled a pained expression. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Can I get anyone a cup of tea?’ Mrs Morkie cooed.

  ‘JUST SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!’ Viscera practically spat the words out. ‘A princess must always be composed and I need some breathing room!’

  ‘Viscera,’ I said, stepping a little closer. ‘If it means anything, I’m really happy to see you – and glad you’re here.’

  ‘Well, I’m not!’ she squeaked back. ‘Me – in a goblin prison!’

  It was at that moment another apple core hit me in the back of the head with a dull THUMP!

  ‘OW!’ I yelled again. ‘Who keeps doing that?!’

  ‘This might actually be perfect timing,’ Gully said, taking me by the arm. He led me a little way off from Viscera and Mrs Morkie, then looked me square in the eyes. ‘Do you remember I told you this place was not quite what you thought it was?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, rubbing the throbbing bump on the top of my head.

  ‘Well, now’s a good time for you to find out where Queen Latrina sent you. The apple cores are a part of it, I’m afraid.’

  Then, without saying another word, Gully grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me round to face the prison bars.

  GRIMEGORN: HAPPIEST PLACE IN THE WORLDS

  The first thing I saw as I blinked in the mushroom light was a large bunch of multi-coloured balloons bobbing past, and I knew in an instant I’d got this place very wrong.

  I gawped at the scene before me and couldn’t bring myself to believe what I was looking at.

  Beyond the iron bars of our cell was a huge ornate garden within an immense circular wall. There were palm-like trees swaying among the towering mushrooms, fountains, little bridges crossing streams and amusement carts dotted about, selling ice creams and snacks.

  Everywhere I looked, I could see goblins strolling around, clutching cameras and pouches stuffed full of maps, and vouchers, and guidebooks. A stumpy goblin lady dressed in an explorer’s outfit – like the one Grandad Abe wears – was walking nearby with a large gabbling group following behind her.

  ‘Keep up, ladies and gentlejims,’ she called to them, an unconvincing smile plastered across her face. ‘We’ve got so much to see on our tour today. Who’s a first-time visitor?’

  Several goblins in the group put their hands up and whooped.

  ‘Yeah!’ The guide cheered like someone who’d just got socks for the seventh Drooltide in a row. ‘I think we should start off at the predator pens for some GRRRRRRuesome creature-watching. It’s feeding time at the nifflehog enclosure in a weensy while.’

  I looked over my shoulder at Gully.

  ‘These are tourists?’ I said.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘And… and…’

  I tried to take more of it in. Around the outside walls were prison cells just like ours, one after another. And I could make out various magical creatures in each one, shuffling about or sitting in the corners.

  ‘These aren’t prison cells!’ I gasped. ‘They’re cages!’

  ‘Yep!’ Gully joined me at the bars and looked out too.

  As if to answer my next question, another goblin in an explorer’s uniform approached through the garden with his tour group.

  ‘All righty, folklies!’ He beamed so enthusiastically, I thought he might be unwell. ‘WELCOME TO GRIMEGORN SAFARI PARK! A few rules – you can’t steal any of the creatures to take home with you. No swimming in the jellyquarium. And stay away from the bars – some of these gruzzlers bite!’

  LIFE IN THE CLUNK

  Ever since I was super little, I’ve never understood zoos. They’re SO weird!

>   I remember Mum telling me about them once. Who’d want to go and look at a miserable animal crumped up in a cage when they could see them living in the wild, just like they should be?

  It’s bumboozling, if you ask me.

  So, you can imagine how juddered I was to find out that Queen Latrina had her own magical menagerie – and I was the newest exhibit! That gruntled old skrunt really was bonkers!

  By the time the toadstools outside had grown to their full height for the morning, Grimegorn was teeming with visitors.

  Viscera was still too hopping mad to even look at me and had taken to sulking inside one of the little lanterns on the wall. The piskie princess was furious enough when she thought we were in prison, but when Gully broke the news that we’d ended up in a goblin zoo, she threw such a giant tantrum for a person no taller than my ankle, her paperclip crown glowed red with the heat.

  ‘WHAT!?!’ she screamed in her minute voice. ‘Herded up like cud-chewing cattle!?’

  ‘You’re welcome to go, Princess,’ I’d told her. ‘You can easily walk straight through the bars, and I understand if you want to leave.’

  ‘ME! Go out there amongst wildlings and weirdy-wumps? Not on your nelly, Banister boy! You got us into this mess and you will get us out of it!’

  In the end, me and Gully decided to leave the tiny stropling alone for a while to cool off, so we went to sit near the bars and watched with fascination as families and gossipy groups made their way around the park.

  ‘Is it like this every day?’ I asked, gawping at a new goblin who’d been posted outside our cage. He was dressed like… well… I think he was supposed to be dressed like a… a… human! He was wearing giant gloves and a big bulbous head made from stitched-together cloth. I could see his little face peering out through the thing’s grinning mouth.