Little Giant--Big Trouble (5 page)

“GRIT!” The giant shouted so loudly that Wiglaf felt the rock tremble. “THE DOOR!”

The door creaked open.

“This is our chance!” whispered Erica. “Quick, jump onto the back of the cart!”

Wiglaf’s heart thumped as they scrambled across the rocks to the cart. Dudwin quickly climbed up the wheel spokes. He helped pull the others up after him. They huddled together on the back of the cart.

Wiglaf’s teeth rattled as the cart wheels thundered over the rocks and through the giant doorway. The cart stopped inside what looked like a stable. The giant swung down from the cart.

Another surly-looking goblin scurried toward the cart. He wore a dirty white jacket.

“So good to have you home, Lady Whopping-Large,” the goblin said in a wheedling voice.

“UNHARNESS CLIP-CLOP, GRIT,” the giant ordered the goblin. “I’VE BEEN DRIVING FOR HOURS. I HOPE YOU’VE COOKED ME A GOOD SUPPER. I’M SO HUNGRY, I COULD EAT A HORSE.”

“HEE-HAW!” said Clip-Clop nervously.

“Indeed, Lady Whopping-Large,” said the goblin, grinning and bowing as he unharnessed the donkey. “I made you a lovely blood pudding.”

Blood pudding? Wiglaf felt his stomach lurch.

“MUMMY!” screamed a high-pitched voice. Wiglaf peered around the side of the cart and saw the giant lass running toward her mother. She threw her arms around her in a giant hug.

“GUESS WHAT!” the giant lass squealed. “I FOUND A WEAL DWAGON FOR ME TO PWAY WITH!”

“YOU CAN TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT WHILE WE EAT SUPPER, GRUBELLA,” said the mother giant.

The mother and daughter giants headed up a stone staircase.

“I PUT THE WEAL DWAGON IN A CAGE IN MY WOOM,” bellowed Grubella as they went. “I DWESSED HER UP WITH A PWINCESS HAT WITH PINK WIBBONS. SHE CAN BE FWIENDS WITH MY STUFFED PINKY DWAGON.”

Wiglaf’s heart sank. Pink ribbons! Poor Worm.

“I GONNA HAVE TEA WIF MY DWAGONS AND MY DOWWIES,” Grubella went on. “AND I GONNA CAWW MY WEAL DWAGON PWINCESS SPAWKLE.”

“PRINCESS SPARKLE!” exclaimed the mother giant. “WHAT A PWETTY—I MEAN, PRETTY NAME FOR YOUR DRAGON.”

The giants disappeared into the castle. Wiglaf heard no more.

“Princess Sparkle, indeed!” huffed Erica.

WORM waited until Grit led Clip-Clop off to his stall. Then Wiglaf and his friends jumped off the back of the wagon. They hurried over to the stone steps. Each one was twice as tall as Wiglaf.

“How are we going to get into the castle?” he asked. “We’re too small to climb up those steps.”

“I can climb them,” said Dudwin. “I can climb anything.”

“Here,” said Erica, taking a coil of rope from her tool belt and handing it to Dudwin. “When you get to the top, throw it down to us.”

Dudwin managed to find toeholds in the stone and soon climbed up the five steps. He threw the rope down and held it as, one by one, the others climbed up. It took a long time for them all to get to the top of the stairs.

“I’m so hungry!” Angus whimpered.

“Too bad,” said Erica. “We are on a mission. We must find Grubella’s room. Follow me.”

She led the way down a long torch-lit hallway, keeping close to the wall. Wiglaf felt no bigger than a mouse. There were giant-size doors all along the hallway.

Through a door to his left, Wiglaf saw a vast dining hall. Inside stood a table as long as a jousting field, with tall wooden chairs around it. But the table and chairs were covered with dust. Faded, moth-eaten tapestries hung on the walls. Wiglaf got the feeling that the Whopping-Large castle had seen better days.

On they went, down the long hallway. From the doorway to the kitchen, Wiglaf saw flames flickering and leaping inside a giant oven. A giant basket had tipped over, spilling giant apples onto the floor. Grit was stomping about, banging pots and pans and grumbling to himself about Lady Whopping-Large.

“Cheap, that’s what she is,” the goblin muttered. “Can’t make a decent supper on twopence a day. If only I could find a steady source of humans.” He licked his deep green lips with a pointy pink tongue and sighed. “That would spice up my stew.”

Angus shuddered. “Do giants really eat humans?” he whispered.

“Only if they catch us,” Janice whispered back.

“Which they won’t!” Erica added quickly.

Suddenly a huge THUMP! sounded behind them.

Then another.

Footsteps!

Wiglaf turned just in time to see Lady Whopping-Large clomping down the hall—straight toward them!

 

 

 

 

“Q
uick!” yelped Wiglaf. “Hide!”

The five tumbled into the kitchen. They ran pell-mell across the floor and dove into the tipped-over basket of giant apples.

Wiglaf crouched behind an apple and held his breath.

Lady Whopping-Large stomped into the kitchen. She stopped and sniffed the air.

Oh, no! Wiglaf thought.
Can she smell us?
If she could smell humans, she’d probably smell Dudwin. He’d never taken a bath in his life.

“FEE FIE FO FUM!” the giant boomed. “I SMELL STEW MADE OF LEECH POND SCUM!”

“IS THIS STEW FOR DINNER TOMORROW WHEN LORD WHOPPING-LARGE GETS HOME?” asked the giant.

Her voice was so loud that Wiglaf bounced around in the apples.

“’Tis, Lady Whopping-Large.” The goblin grinned and bowed. “Tastes better than it smells. Nicely spiced, if I do say so myself.”

“FUM FEE FO FIE,” grumbled the giant. “ALL I WANT IS A HUMAN PIE.”

Wiglaf started trembling. And then he heard a...

He froze. What was that?

“YOU HEAR THAT, GRIT?” asked the giant.

Grit nodded. “Must be mice in the pantry,” he said.

Wiglaf turned toward the sound, and his heart nearly stopped. Angus was taking bites out of a giant apple!

Wiglaf motioned to him to cut it out! But Angus pretended not to notice.

“SET SOME TRAPS, GRIT,” said the giant. She stomped out of the kitchen.

Wiglaf went limp with relief. What was Angus thinking?

“Come on,” Erica whispered. “The goblin is busy with the stew. Now’s our chance!”

They slipped out of the basket and scurried across the kitchen floor. They ran through the doorway to the hallway and stopped to catch their breath.

“You almost landed us in the stew, Angus!” said Erica.

“I couldn’t help it,” said Angus. “I was so hungry.”

Quick as mice, the five scampered down the torch-lit hallway until they came to a stone spiral staircase. A worn red carpet lay on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Big pieces of parchment painted with crude drawings were stuck to the walls all the way up the stairs. The drawings showed dragons wearing frilly outfits. Dragons having tea. Dragons painting their toenails. Wiglaf shook his head. This would be Worm’s fate if they didn’t save him!

“This staircase must lead to Grubella’s room,” said Erica.

“It took us forever to climb the five steps from the stable,” Wiglaf said. “It’ll take us all night to climb these!”

“I wish we had a flying carpet,” Dudwin said.

“That would be so cool!” said Janice.

“Maybe we will,” said Wiglaf, staring at the frayed red carpet.

“What are you talking about, Wiggie?” asked Erica.

“This.” Wiglaf pulled the Quickening Quill from his belt. He quickly explained how the wizard had given him the feather and what it was supposed to do. “I might be able to turn this into a flying carpet,” he said.

“I don’t know,” said Erica. “That wizard’s spells have a way of going wrong.”

“I say we try it,” Janice said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, the spell could stop working in midair,” Angus said,. “and we fall to our deaths. Or the rug might throw us off, and
then
we fall to our deaths. Or—”

“Enough, Angus,” Erica said. “We have no choice.” She turned to Wiglaf. “Go on. Try it.”

Wiglaf began tickling the carpet with the feather and chanting:

The edges of the carpet began to flap.

“Oh my!” said a bubbly voice. The carpet flapped harder, and the whole thing rose up until it floated above the stone floor. Then the carpet gave itself a good shake. Dust filled the air.

Wiglaf and his friends backed away until the dust storm ended.

“Oh, I feel
so
much better!” exclaimed the carpet.

“Excuse me, carpet,” Wiglaf said as the dust settled. “We need your help. Could you please fly us to the top of these stairs?”

“Are you jesting?” The carpet folded itself, as if arching its back, and rose higher into the air. “I’m finally free to move about on my own, and what happens? Someone wants a lift! Well! I’ve let people walk all over me my whole life and this is where it ends. I have to stand up for myself! I have to do what’s right for
me
for once!” The rug gave a forceful flounce.

“We don’t mean to order you around, carpet,” Erica said. “We just need to get up the stairs.”

“Please help us,” said Angus.

“You wouldn’t even be floating around if my brother hadn’t put a spell on you,” Dudwin pointed out.

“I said no, and I meant no,” the carpet said. “I’m going on a holiday. Ta-ta!” It began to float toward a slit in the castle wall.

Erica rushed toward the fleeing carpet. She drew her sword. “Don’t make me use this, rug!” she called.

The carpet sighed. “Oh, have it your way,” it said, floating down and hovering inches above the floor. “Jump on.”

The five stepped onto the carpet, knelt down, and grabbed hold of the edges. They held tight as the carpet began spiraling up the stairs, gaining speed with every turn.

“Wheeee!” shouted the carpet. “I never knew what I was missing just lying around on the floor!”

“This is so cool!” said Janice.

“Amazing!” said Dudwin. “Wait’ll I tell the other Class I kids!”

Wiglaf gripped the edges of the carpet. He did not look down. He tried not to think about what would happen if the spell stopped working and they fell. He kept his thoughts on saving Worm.

The rug rounded a final bend, hovered for a moment, then floated down onto the landing at the top of the stairs.

“Second floor,” the carpet said. “Everybody off!”

Wiglaf and the others hopped off.

“Thanks, carpet,” Dudwin said. “That was awesome!”

Wiglaf pulled the Quickening Quill from his belt. He knew he should reverse the spell. Zizmor would not be happy to have a carpet floating around the world. But what was that spell-reversing rhyme anyway? Something about ham and pickles, be as you were before...what? Oh, well. It seemed too cruel to turn the flying carpet into a mere rug again.

“Have a good holiday, carpet!” he called as the carpet floated up again.

“I shall!” the carpet answered. “I’m outta here!” Then it rolled itself up and shot through the narrow slit in the castle wall.

“Now to rescue Worm,” Wiglaf said.

But before anyone could take a step, a giant roar filled the air.

 

 

 

 

T
he roar sounded again.

“What’s
that?”
whispered Wiglaf.

“Sounds like Pa, snoring,” said Dudwin.

Wiglaf smiled. That’s exactly what it sounded like! The giant lass was snoring.

“Guess we follow the snoring,” said Erica.

The roaring grew louder as she led the way down a hallway to a tower room. Moonlight shone through slits in the castle wall. A small torch flickered by the doorway. Everything was lit by the glow. Grubella lay sleeping in a giant bed, holding a pink, plush dragon. Her mouth was wide open, and she was indeed snoring:
HONNNN-BUBUBUBUBUBUBUBRRRRRR!

“She’s awfully loud!” shouted Dudwin over the giant lass’s snoring.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Wiglaf said frantically.

Grubella snorted and rolled over in her sleep. She stuck her giant thumb into her giant mouth. At least she wasn’t snoring anymore.

Wiglaf looked around the room. Where was Worm? He spied a giant birdcage sitting on a low table next to Grubella’s bed. And curled up on the bottom of the cage was Worm. He had a lacy pink princess hat tied onto his head. His claws had been painted with sparkly pink polish. His tail drooped through the bars of the cage. His snout was running.

“He still looks sick,” Wiglaf whispered. “He needs Brother Dave’s Heavenly Cold-B-Gone Tonic.” He turned to Janice. “Boost me up onto the table. I’ll open the door to his cage.”

Janice knitted her fingers together and lowered her hands. Wiglaf stepped onto them. Slowly, Janice raised her arms. Wiglaf reached up and grabbed onto the edge of the table with his fingertips. He dangled for a moment. Then he kicked one leg up onto the table and pulled the rest of himself up, too.