100% Hero (13 page)

'They turned back ages ago – wimps,' Vinny
scoffed.

The Baa-Van's laughter came again from the moors,
very close.

'Quick, this way,' Freddy yelped and ran down the
rhododendron drive to the house, with Vinny close
on his heels.

'Did she see you?' Freddy asked breathlessly as
they ran.

'No, not in my camouflage,' the boy replied.
'Why?'

'You don't ever want to look into her eyes,
because –' He stopped dead in surprise.

'Argh!' Vinny yelled in horror.

There, standing on the gravel drive, his finger
raised and pointing at them, was not the Baa-Van but
a creature like nothing Freddy had ever seen – but he
had heard tales of them. It had the body of a normal-sized
man, but the head of a wolf. It was a creature
of myth and fairytale, a wulver, neither human nor
Fangen. Its blue eyes were looking straight at them.
Vinny was frozen with shock, but Freddy was not
afraid. This must be the wolf he had heard howling.
He was sure it was a friend.

Vinny stared with newfound respect as Freddy
stepped towards the wulver and held up his hairy
palms to show his Fangen blood. The wulver was
wearing Hunting MacLeod tartan, just like Freddy.

'Fangen,' Freddy said quietly.

'Run, laddie,' the wulver growled. 'She's coming
for you. I'll guard your back.'

Freddy turned – and flinched. Down at the far
end of the tunnel of rhododendrons he could see the
pale glow of the Baa-Van. Her green dress and red
hair billowed around her as if she were floating in
water. Her beauty mesmerised him. Her eyes caught
him and, like before, flashed red, then her fiery black
pupils were all he could see. She raced towards him,
her arms reaching out.

'Run, fathead,' Vinny cried and pushed him down
the path. The Baa-Van screeched in fury.

'Thus far and no further, my dear,' the wulver said
calmly to the Baa-Van.

The boys didn't wait to see what happened. They
crashed through the back door and into the kitchen,
bolting the door behind them. Vinny pushed the
table against the door for extra comfort.

'I wasn't scared!' Freddy declared, puffing out his
chest.

'Neither was I!' Vinny agreed, flexing his muscles.

Then they collapsed with laughter.

Far away, in the dungeons of Farfang, Chester Puceley
was becoming very irritated with Sir Hotspur. It was
the second night they had been sneaking around,
holding the map and lighting their way with torches.
Still they had not found the Hidden Halls, which they
believed lay below the castle.

'Great horned toads, this is useless!' he cried. 'I
only helped you escape Dundaggard because you
said you knew how to find the entrance.' Chester sat
down on a stone bench in a strop.

'More fool you, sir!' Hotspur scowled. 'The key to
finding the doors must be the symbols.' He tore the map
from Chester's hand and poked his finger at the drawings.
'A Moonstone, a full moon and a Blavendoch.'

'I had worked that much out already,' the other
cried. 'I should have left you in Scotland to rot.'

'Beware of how you address a wolf, sir.' Hotspur
stepped closer.

'And beware how you address a Squire of the
Boldovian Court.' Chester jumped up.

'Shh!' Hotspur scowled and held up his finger, his
bushy red eyebrows raised high.

'Is there anyone there?' Mrs Mutton's voice
called down the stairs from the corridor above.
Her shuffling footsteps started to descend. Both
men crouched in the dark, staring like startled
children.

'What do we do?' Chester hissed, looking around
the small stone cell. 'There's nowhere to hide.'

'Quiet, you fool,' Hotspur hissed.

'Who are you calling a fool?' Chester whispered in
outrage.

'You, sir!' Hotspur pushed him with his finger.
'Who else is here?'

'You take it back, you great buffoon!' Chester
prodded his cousin back.

'Buffoon?' Hotspur cried. 'Never prod a Fangen,
sir!' He pushed Chester.

'Never push a Weren!' Chester prodded him
harder.

'Yes, I will, sir!' Push.

'So will I!' Prod.

'Take that!' Hotspur twanged a hair out of Chester's
moustache. The Boldovian gasped in outrage. He gave
Sir Hotspur's eyebrow a yank.

In a second, the two men were rolling around on
the floor fighting.

'Oh, Mr Puceley, I'm so disappointed in you,'
Mrs Mutton's voice broke out in the stone cell. 'And
Hotspur! Once Laird McDaggard told the Fang Council
that you'd escaped, I knew you'd turn up here. You'll
be seeing the wooden spoon before too long.'

The two men looked up from the floor of the cell
to see the housekeeper slapping the cooking utensil
into her hand.

The next morning when the train porter opened up the
luggage room, he had a bit of a surprise. Sitting quietly
with a luggage tag in her mouth was a sweet, hairy
mongrel. When he looked at her curiously, she flopped
her head from side to side and wagged her tail.

'Well, and are you lost, sweetie? Where are you
trying to get to?' He took the label from her mouth.
'Drumbogie? Why, that's some drive. But let me finish
here, and we'll see what we can do, eh?'

Batty gave a bark.

Freddy groaned himself awake. What very strange
nightmares he had had, and now there was the most
appalling smell under his nose – like a thousandyear-
old cheese and onion pie. He opened an eye and
found Vinny's toe up his nose.

'Erg!' Freddy jumped off the mattress that the boys
had shared. 'Get up, butt-breath.' He nudged Vinny
with his foot. 'You'd better go before everyone wakes
up. It's light now, so the witch'll be gone.'

Vinny yawned and forced himself up. He didn't
look quite so fierce now.

'What was that language you was speaking to that
wolf thing last night?' he asked, pulling on his boots.

'English,' Freddy replied, slipping on his ballet
shoes.

'It were no English I've ever 'eard.' Vinny stood up.

'Dunno then.' Freddy shrugged. He didn't understand
how he had talked with the wulver either.

'So why do you want to dance ballet, then?' the
boy asked, scratching his fingers through the bristles
on his head.

'Oh, der!' Freddy scowled. 'I don't! I was kidnapped
and they burnt my clothes.'

Vinny laughed.

They snuck out of the room and headed for the
door. Vinny stopped, however, to look at the pictures
on the wall.

'Like, so-ooo lame,' Freddy snorted.

'I think they look sorta . . . nice. Beautiful and stuff.'

Freddy flared a nostril in disbelief.

'I always liked the idea of being a dancer, like. We
used to do it at reform school.' The large boy practised
pointing his toe in his big boots.

'But you called me a sissy!' Freddy recalled.

'Yeah, so what? You are one, but I'm not. I could
be a dancer if I wanted,' Vinny decided. 'Throwing
girls up in the air and that. I'd be right elegant, I
would.'

'But everyone would laugh at you!' Freddy roared,
almost bursting with hilarity.

Vinny turned to him menacingly.

'No one would dare laugh at me,' he corrected the
younger boy.

'No, of course not,' Freddy squeaked. 'You'd better
go . . . I mean, before everyone arrives,' he finished in
a deep, manly voice.

Only after Vinny had disappeared could Freddy
laugh. What a ridiculous idea – no tough guy should
ever dance ballet. But then he remembered that that
was just what he was about to do. That confused him
a little – for surely he was a tough guy too?

By the end of that morning's rehearsal, Freddy could
hold Priscilla high without dropping her. She, however,
still shuddered when he touched her.

'The champion!' He grinned as he caught the
flying girl. The twins scowled.

'Once a poodle, always a poodle,' Priscilla whispered
in his ear as they danced away.

'And now for ze final zcene: Prinze Charming takes
ze zlipper . . .' Madam called as Freddy skipped and
twirled around with the glass shoe. 'And he zlips it on
Zinderella's tiny foot.'

Priscilla sat on the bench and held out her dainty
toes.

'Oh, cheesy,' Freddy said under his breath, as he
placed the slipper on her.

'Loser,' Priscilla whispered.

'And zen the Prinze takes her in his ztrong arms . . .'
Madam called.

'As if I would . . .' Freddy smiled, embracing her.

'Wimp.' She pouted.

'And for ze grand finale – he kizzes her!' Madam
cried.

'He what?' Freddy looked up in shock and dropped
Cinderella onto the floor. 'No way!'

'Ow, idiot.' Priscilla jumped up, outraged.

'But Charming must kizz Zinderella!' Madam insisted.

'I'd razzer kizz ze ugly zisters,' Freddy declared,
his hands on his hips.

Those two ballerinas stepped forward eagerly.

'Erm, not really.' Freddy jumped to safety.

Priscilla was stunned – how could a boy
not
want
to kiss her? She was beautiful!

Madam's hairs flew out to him in annoyance. 'Idiot
boy!' she cried. 'After lunch, you vill kizz ze girl, or
you know vhat!' She took the folded photograph of
Freddy and his Blavendoch from her pocket.

With a heavy heart, Freddy slumped outside into
the garden to sulk. There was no escape from this
nightmare.

Dougal shuffled around the corner, carrying a
heavy sack. The old man looked up at Freddy with
piercing blue eyes.

'It's you!' Freddy grinned and ran to him. 'Are
you really a . . . a
wulver
? My dad says they're only
a fairytale.'

'And so the Fangen believe.' Dougal nodded and
laughed a little at Freddy's stunned expression. 'Oh
aye, I knew about you, wee pup, from the first moment
I smelt you.'

Freddy was a little worried that his true nature
could be uncovered so easily.

'Dinnae fret, lad, only a wulver could tell.'

'But how can you transform without the full moon?'

'A wulver needs only one beam of moonlight, for
our Transwolfation is not total, as you saw.'

'Cool!' Freddy said. How wonderful to be a wolf
on so many more nights. Then Freddy remembered
his manners. 'Thanks for saving us from the Baa-Van
last night.'

'No problem. But has she seen your eyes, laddie?'
Dougal looked at him closely.

'Yes,' Freddy admitted.

'That's bad.' Dougal frowned.

'Twice,' Freddy croaked.

'That's worse.'

'Oooh.' Freddy's stomach hurt a little. 'Why?'

'Because she won't stop now until she finds you.
You cannot escape this place; not by car, horse or
helicopter – certainly not by running. She'll see you,
and her magic will bring you down. Then you'll join
her for all eternity, in her endless roaming on the
winds, searching for another soul to capture.'

'Okay . . . I just wanted to be a fireman, but I guess
I could change my plans,' Freddy said, gulping. 'What
about you – aren't you scared of her?'

'Aye, of course I am; she's my wife.'

'Your
wife
?' Freddy roared. 'But I thought she
was a blood-sucking witch demon.'

'Oh aye, but she's a good girl at heart, just gets a
wee bit upset sometimes.'

'So she won't really suck my blood?' Freddy said,
relieved.

'Aye, given half a chance,' Dougal confirmed
cheerfully, 'but she means well.'

Freddy shook his head in disbelief. 'How – isn't
she evil?'

'Not at all, she just doesn't know any different. I
am the guardian of the moors, here to protect her and
the humans, just as I have for the last thousand years.
We are the last of our kind, and I will see no harm
done to the Baa-Van Shee.' Dougal stood up.

'And what about me?'

'You need to leave here, and in a disguise so perfect
that not even the Baa-Van will track you down,' said
the gardener, looking out across the hills. 'Once you're
off the moors, she has no power.'

'I'm not going dressed as Prince Charming!' Freddy
declared.

'No, you must transform.' Dougal stared at him.
'It's the only way.'

'But I can't, not until the full moon,' Freddy cried.
'What if she comes for me?'

'Stay inside after dark and always keep the horseshoe
with you. My sweet lassie cannot bear iron.'