Bang Goes a Troll Page 3

  “Those bullets were with the Professor’s things from Honeycomb Mountain,” Ulf said.

  “I expect they got put up there by accident,” Orson replied. “The Room of Curiosities is packed with old stuff from all over the place.”

  Orson pulled out his flying cable. He was too big to fit in the helicopter so he flew beneath it, suspended on a long steel cable with a footstrap at its end. He reached in again and pulled out a huge vest made from woven metal.

  “What’s that?” Ulf asked, staring at it.

  “It’s my chainmail vest,” Orson replied. “In case of trolls.” He held it up for Ulf to see. The metal was worn and dented. “Dr. Fielding says there are longtusk trolls at Honeycomb Mountain. They’re the biggest trolls of all, Ulf. Their tusks can go right through you.”

  Orson folded the vest, then reached in for Dr. Fielding’s backpack and caving boots.

  “Do you think something bad has happened at Honeycomb Mountain?” Ulf asked.

  The giant stood up, holding the kit in his arms. “Don’t pay too much attention to what a goblin says, Ulf. They’re always causing trouble. The last time I saw one, it was stealing my kettle.” He gave Ulf a wink, then strode off across the yard toward the helicopter. As he reached the forecourt he turned. “Don’t worry about a thing, Ulf,” he called. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

  Ulf looked up at the evening sky.

  Stormclouds were gathering overhead.

  Chapter 6

  AS THE SKY DARKENED, ULF HEADED DOWN THE side of the big beast barn toward a stone hut with bars on its window. This was his den. He stepped inside, taking the rope from his shoulder, then pulled off the headlamp and took the map and compass from his pockets. The message from Gumball the spotter fell out in the straw and he sat down looking at it: HELP! he read.

  Ulf was wondering what had happened to the goblin. No one seemed to like goblins very much. No one except Professor Farraway, anyway. He reached to the back of his den and from his secret hiding place took out a small black book. It was Professor Farraway’s old notebook: The Book of Beasts. He began flicking through the pages, past jottings on tracking pixies and a step-by-step guide to demon dentistry. He saw a sketch of the boola monster, a diagram of a minotaur’s skull and tips on how to bottle a poltergeist. He found a section on underground beasts and stopped at an entry headed GOBLINS. Ulf read:

  Goblins are expert thieves. They watch from the shadows, waiting to steal a scrap of meat or a shiny jewel to brighten their caves. Nothing goes on underground that a goblin doesn’t see. Considered dirty and untrustworthy, they are seldom liked, but be nice to a goblin and it will help you, for a goblin will never forget a friend.

  Ulf felt the wind blowing through the bars of his window. It was dark outside and starting to rain. He gathered the Professor’s things around him, and tucked his knees into his chest. He imagined the Professor long ago on his expedition to Honeycomb Mountain, exploring the tunnels and caves underground. Then he thought about the bullets in the backpack. Why had the Professor given them to him?

  Ulf heard a gurgling sound and the patter of feet scurrying across the roof of his den. The sky flashed with lightning, and he saw Druce’s face appear upside-down at the door.

  The gargoyle pointed his fingers at Ulf. “Bang!”

  Ulf jumped. “What are you doing here, Druce?”

  The gargoyle dropped down and scurried around the side of Ulf’s den. “Drucey goes a-hunting. Hunting little beasties,” Ulf heard him gurgle.

  The gargoyle popped up at the window, grinning. He pointed his fingers through the bars. “Bang! Bang!”

  “Cut it out, Druce,” Ulf said.

  Druce blew the end of his fingers like a gun. He leaned in further, screwing up his ugly face. “Marrrrackai hunted beasts.”

  “What are you talking about, Druce?” Ulf asked. Hearing the name Marackai sent a chill down Ulf’s spine.

  “Bad Marackai,” Druce said.

  The gargoyle put his little finger into his mouth and bit it. “I bited him,” he said. “I bited his finger off.”

  The gargoyle giggled, then ran off, bounding through the rain back to Farraway Hall. Ulf could see him scampering up to the dark rooftop. The gargoyle was singing: “He comes in the night with his gun and his knife. Run away, Fur Face, run for your life!”

  Ulf lay down in the darkness, thinking about Marackai. Marackai was Professor Farraway’s son and had once lived at Farraway Hall. He hated beasts, and had been vicious and cruel to them. He’d been sent away, but twice he’d tried to take Farraway Hall back for himself. Twice Ulf had defeated him.

  Ulf tried to sleep, but he couldn’t. He had a creepy feeling that something bad was happening at Honeycomb Mountain. He stayed awake all night listening to the storm, thinking about the message and the bullets. As the storm blew itself out and the first rays of dawn appeared in the sky, Ulf knew what he had to do. He had to go on the expedition. He had to find out what was wrong.

  Ulf picked up the headlamp from the straw and put it on. He stuffed the map and compass into his pockets and slung the rope over his shoulder, then he crept out of his den.

  The rain had stopped and the clouds were clearing. In the half-light, he saw Orson’s lantern glowing from across the beast park. The giant was on his way back from giving the beasts their early-morning feed. Ulf ran through the yard to the corner of the house and saw Dr. Fielding loading her medical backpack into the back of the helicopter.

  He looked up at Druce asleep on the rooftop. “Psst,” he said.

  The gargoyle turned from stone to flesh as he woke up.

  “Keep an eye on things here for me, Druce,” Ulf whispered.

  The gargoyle scurried down the drainpipe. “Where’s Fur Face going?” he gurgled.

  “To Honeycomb Mountain,” Ulf whispered. “You’re in charge now.”

  Druce smiled. “Drucey the boss!”

  “Ssh,” Ulf said. He saw Dr. Fielding climbing into the cockpit of the helicopter. She was checking the flight controls.

  Ulf saw that the cargo hold was open. With no one looking, he dashed across the forecourt and jumped into the back of the helicopter. He scrambled behind the pile of kit.

  “Ready to go!” Dr. Fielding called.

  Ulf heard Orson’s footsteps coming around the side of the house. He stayed hidden behind the kit as the giant loaded a lantern into the back of the helicopter. The door slid shut. It was pitch dark in the cargo hold. Ulf switched on his headlamp and it shone on metal walls. There were no windows. Then from under Orson’s chainmail vest, a sparkle flew out. It was Tiana the fairy.

  “Tiana!” Ulf said, amazed. “What are you doing here?”

  Tiana hovered in the lamplight. She was wearing a warm red cloak made from a pleated sycamore leaf. “You didn’t think I’d let you go on an expedition without me, did you?”

  “But how did you know I was coming?”

  Tiana smiled. “You’re a werewolf. You’re always up to something.”

  Ulf heard Dr. Fielding calling to Orson outside. Then suddenly the helicopter engine started and Ulf heard the blades beginning to turn. He felt the helicopter lift off the ground.

  “We’re off,” he said excitedly.

  There was a clanking sound as Orson clipped his flying cable to the bottom of the helicopter, then a jolt as the giant was lifted into the air.

  Ulf felt the helicopter surge forward, carrying him away from Farraway Hall.

  Chapter 7

  BARON MARACKAI STOOD BEHIND THE RECEPTION desk in an old hotel, counting a bundle of money. He looked up as the front door opened and a flurry of snowflakes blew into the lobby. A man stepped inside, dragging a suitcase. He was wearing a camouflage jacket and a cowboy hat. He stamped his snowy boots on the mat.

  “Ah, Mr. Armstrong,” the Baron said. “Welcome to Loadem Lodge.”

  “Howdy,” the man replied.

  “You’re just in time for morning coffee. The others are waiting. If you wo
uldn’t mind paying in advance, I’ll show you through.”

  “How much does this thing cost?” the man asked, pulling a wad of bank notes from his pocket.

  The Baron took all the money. “That’ll do nicely,” he said. Then he rang a little bell on the desk and Bone came lumbering into the lobby, wearing a small peaked cap.

  “My porter will take your bags upstairs, Mr. Armstrong,” Baron Marackai said. He handed Bone a key attached to a key ring in the shape of a pistol. “Room five,” the Baron said. Then he stepped out from behind the reception desk. “Come and meet the others, Mr. Armstrong.”

  Baron Marackai led the man across the lobby and pushed open the double doors to an oakpanelled room. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “Sure thing,” Mr. Armstrong replied.

  Blud shuffled over carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee.

  Mr. Armstrong took one and sipped it slowly, looking around the room.

  Seated in leather armchairs around a roaring log fire were three men and a woman. They were all wearing camouflage clothing and sipping hot coffee.

  “Leave us now, Blud,” Baron Marackai said, taking a cup for himself. He stood beside the fireplace, facing the guests. “And now for the introductions,” he said. “Mr. Armstrong, I’d like you to meet everyone. This is Herr Herman Pinkel.”

  A man with a red face and a bulbous nose stood up and shook Mr. Armstrong’s hand. “Sehr gut. Sehr gut,” Herr Herman Pinkel said.

  The Baron gestured to a tall man with shiny hair tied in a ponytail. “And this is Señor Pedro Pedroso.”

  The man stood up and kissed Mr. Armstrong on both cheeks. “Encantado,” he said.

  “And this is the delightful Lady Semolina,” the Baron continued.

  A stern-looking woman with a curly moustache held out her hand.

  Mr. Armstrong took it and kissed it. “Delighted,” he said. “I think.”

  “And this is Mr. Zachariah D. Biggles.”

  A big man wearing dark sunglasses stood up. He towered over Mr. Armstrong. “You can call me Biggy.”

  “Howdy y’all,” Mr. Armstrong said. “You can call me Chuck.”

  “Take a seat please, Mr. Armstrong,” Baron Marackai said.

  Chuck Armstrong sat in a leather armchair and stretched his legs out in front of the fire.

  “Firstly, let me welcome you all to Loadem Lodge,” Baron Marackai continued. “It has always been my dream to reopen this marvelous hunting hideaway. As some of you may know, beast hunting is in my blood.”

  “Bravo,” Lady Semolina said, twiddling her moustache.

  “For too long beast hunts have been banned because some do-gooders think they are cruel,” the Baron told them.

  “Down viz ze do-gooderz!” Herr Herman Pinkel said.

  “But I say that hunting beasts is what humans are best at. It’s as natural as starting fires and fighting wars. And this evening you lucky people will sample the thrills of the greatest beast-hunting range ever built—the Predatron!”

  The guests clapped.

  “Yee-ha!” Chuck Armstrong cheered.

  Baron Marackai stepped over to a large table covered by a white sheet. “Gentlemen, Lady Semolina, choose your fun!” he said.

  He pulled back the sheet and the guests gasped. Underneath were fiverif les with telescopic sights, a pair of pistols in leather holsters, a crossbow and longbow with quivers of arrows, a leather belt of knives, harpoon guns, hand grenades, a flame-thrower, and boxes of titanium-tipped beast bullets.

  “Olé!” Pedro Pedroso said.

  “Tally-ho!” Lady Semolina said.

  “When do we start?” Chuck Armstrong asked.

  “All in good time,” Baron Marackai told him. “We have smoked out the prey and it is being prepared. We shall hunt it this evening.” He lifted his cup. “TO THE THRILL OF THE KILL!”

  The guests stood up, raising their cups to the Baron. “The thrill of the kill!” they repeated.

  The small man Blud shuffled in through the door and tugged on the Baron’s fur coat.

  “What is it, you horrible little twerp?” Baron Marackai asked.

  “There’s a helicopter coming, sir,” Blud whispered. He led Baron Marackai to the window on the far side of the room and wiped the misted glass with his red rag. The Baron looked out into the snowy sky. In the distance was the outline of a white mountain. Above it a helicopter was coming in to land.

  “Well, well, look who it is,” Baron Marackai said. “Get the vehicles, Blud. You know what to do.”

  Chapter 8

  ULF’S EARS POPPED. THE RSPCB HELICOPTER WAS descending. “We’re landing,” he whispered to Tiana. He felt a jolt as Orson stepped from the flying cable, then heard a clanking sound as the giant unclipped the cable from the base of the helicopter. A few seconds later the helicopter touched down with a bump. Its engine stopped and Ulf heard the blades slowing.

  “Stay quiet,” he whispered to Tiana.

  From outside came muffled voices. Dr. Fielding and Orson were talking. The door to the cargo hold slid open and Ulf felt a rush of cold air. He could hear the wind whistling outside. He hid under an old tarpaulin sheet as Orson reached in to unload the kit. Ulf heard the giant dragging his chainmail vest out of the helicopter.

  “Could you pass me my backpack, please?” Dr. Fielding asked. “And I’ll need my caving boots.”

  “What’s the plan?” Orson asked.

  “We’ll have a look underground, check on the beasts, and see if we can find this goblin.”

  The door to the cargo hold slid shut. Ulf heard Orson and Dr. Fielding getting packed up, then they headed away from the helicopter.

  “Let’s go,” he whispered to Tiana. Ulf pushed off the tarpaulin sheet and gently opened the door. He squinted. Outside, a blizzard was blowing. Snowflakes were swirling and everything was bright white. They were on a snowy mountain that was dotted with caves. He saw Dr. Fielding and Orson fifty meters away, heading to a cave with rocks around its entrance that looked like dragons’ teeth. Dr. Fielding was holding her GPS tracker in her hand, and had her backpack over her shoulder.

  “Ready, Tiana?” Ulf asked.

  Tiana wrapped herself in her red sycamore cloak with just her wings sticking out. “It’s chilly,” she said, flying through the gap in the door. She shivered, dodging the snowflakes.

  As Dr. Fielding and Orson entered the cave, Ulf jumped out of the cargo hold. His bare feet sank into the snow.

  “Won’t you be cold?” Tiana asked.

  “I’ll be fine,” Ulf said. He was nearing his transformation. His blood was warming up and the hair on his hands and feet was starting to thicken. Tonight the moon would be full and he’d change from boy to wolf.

  He looped the climbing rope over his shoulder, then headed across the snowy mountain toward the cave. He waited at the entrance, peering inside. At the back of the cave, a long dark tunnel sloped gradually downward. He could see Orson and Dr. Fielding heading along it. The giant was stooping, holding his lantern to light the way.

  Ulf crept in, heading after them. “Come on, Tiana,” he whispered. Tiana flew beside him, glowing softly. They could hear the chittering sounds of underground beasts. Tiny eyes on stalks were peering from cracks in the walls.

  “Friggs,” Ulf whispered. Froglike beasts were watching them. Ulf trod carefully, feeling damp cold rock under his bare feet. Up ahead, Dr. Fielding and Orson turned a corner, their lamplight slowly fading.

  From the darkness, Ulf heard Dr. Fielding calling, “Gumball, are you here? It’s the RSPCB-B-B.” Her voice echoed underground.

  “The goblin’s probably busy thieving,” Tiana said sharply.

  “Ssh,” Ulf told her. “If Dr. Fielding finds out we’re here, we’ll be in big trouble.”

  They crept around the corner at the end of the tunnel, but there was no sign of the light from Orson’s lantern. Ulf switched on his headlamp. He saw that the tunnel divided. Two passages led away in different directions.


  “Which way did they go?” Tiana asked.

  Ulf heard a noise from one of the passages. It sounded like footsteps. “Down here, Tiana,” he said, heading deeper into the mountain. The passage twisted and turned. As they crept along it, the sounds grew louder.

  “Those aren’t footsteps,” Tiana said.

  Ulf listened. The sound was like daggers stabbing rock. He tiptoed into the darkness and the beam from his headlamp shone down the passage, illuminating a large insectlike beast.

  “Uh-oh,” Ulf said. Up ahead, stalking toward them along the tunnel, was a white beast with long articulated legs and two whiplike antennae. “It’s a cave mantis,” he whispered.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Tiana said.

  “Just keep still. They’re blind. It can’t see us.”

  The beast’s eyelids were grown over. It was using its antennae to feel its way along the walls.

  Ulf pressed his back against the side of the tunnel, and Tiana perched on his headlamp.

  “Stop fidgeting,” Ulf whispered.

  “I’m not fidgeting.”

  Ulf could hear something wriggling above him. A small lizard dropped down on to his shoulder. He felt its foot tickling his ear. Ulf tried not to move.

  He watched as the cave mantis approached, its antennae twitching. The beast stopped beside him. It was more than twice Ulf’s height and its pale skin was so thin that he could see its heart beating and its belly full of toads and rats.

  The lizard on Ulf’s shoulder flicked out its forked tongue, licking his cheek, but he didn’t dare f linch. He held his breath, staying completely still.

  The cave mantis’s antennae were feeling up the wall. The end of one antenna brushed over Ulf’s neck. Suddenly, the cave mantis lifted its daggerlike leg, ready to strike. Ulf stayed frozen to the spot. The lizard started nibbling his ear. The cave mantis lunged, skewering the lizard against the rock.

  Ulf kept still as the beast gobbled the lizard up then stalked away down the tunnel. Ulf breathed out. “That was close,” he said.