30.1: NOT ALL HEROES (part 1)

8 2 6
                                    

In which fairy godmothers are not what Pim expects them to be.

#

Elizabeth was thoroughly fed up. Stranded, cloudless, at the edge of the treeline, it was all they could do to watch as carts, carriages, pedestrians, riders, and all manner of other Middlers passed them on the road beyond while the sun made its painfully slow way across the sky. It was now finally making its approach to the horizon, and Elizabeth was itching to get out into the darkness so that they could catch up with that dratted Winkton girl again. She inched an exploratory toe out of the shade and drew it back with a hiss. Not quite yet.

Pim, meanwhile, seemed more upset about the loss of Juggalug than the loss of her cloak. She had sniffled for most of the morning before finally-thankfully-falling asleep under a sycamore tree. Only Edmund seemed happy enough. Lying beside Pim, he was idly covering himself with leaves. Elizabeth was only glad that Fang was not here to see this. It was a most undignified situation, to be sure.

At last the sun dipped its head below the distant hills.

"Up!" snapped Elizabeth.

Pim came awake with a start and Edmund sat up, showering leaves.

"Wha?" said Pim.

"It is night-time," Elizabeth informed her. "And we are going. Right now." She rose from the ground and flew out from under the cover of the trees. Edmund followed, plucking yet more leaves from his evening dress, while Pim trailed behind, blinking sleepily. Beneath them, the highway snaked northwards, much quieter now than it had been during the day. Only a couple of coaches and carts rumbled past below, the owners peering out of their vehicles at the three forms hovering overhead, only to draw their heads back in sharpish and give their horses a hearty snap with the reins once they realised that, yes, those were vampires, oh gosh, let's get to that inn quickly now, shall we?

Elizabeth turned to the north, her eyes narrowing. "Right. Quick now, both of you. That girl is not going to get away from us a second time." Her voice was steely. "This time, she will tell us where Rupert is. I will get my son back."

"And Juggalug," Pim put in.

"And Juggalug," Elizabeth agreed with a sigh.

Their imminent departure was delayed by the arrival of a furious scream. This scream reached the vampires from the south, travelling before its owner like a vanguard sent to clear the way ahead of the main force. Vampires are not easily cowed, however, and the Morbid-Hilts merely looked at one another with raised eyebrows.

"Juggalug?" suggested Pim, hopefully.

"I don't think so, dear," said Elizabeth.

"Then... what?"

In silent agreement, the three vampires spread out ready to intercept the screamer. Before long, they saw it-hurtling towards them above the road, trailing a stream of violet sparks. It was unfortunate for the screaming form that the three persons towards whom it was speeding had, only a few hours earlier, had a bad experience with something that had moved very fast. Such coincidences are extremely unlucky, particularly if the misunderstanding involves vampires, and especially if it involves a vampiress whose wrath was, at that moment, greater than a dragon's upon waking in an empty cavern to a note reading Gotcha hoard, sucker!

This being the case, the reader might pity the screaming being currently zooming towards the narrowed eyes of Elizabeth Morbid-Hilt. However, the reader may find they are less inclined to do so when they learn that the screaming being was, in fact, Minola Caw-leaning almost horizontal on her faithful broomstick as she raced along-and that the object of her rage was, in fact, Harriet. The reader may find their pity receding even further when they are told that Minola Caw had finally escaped from Pinwick's heroic woollen citizenry and now intended, at the earliest opportunity, to turn Harriet into a slug. The reader will therefore be glad to hear that instead of achieving her aim, Minola Caw found her broomstick snatched from under her, her wand plucked from her fingers, and her shapely self dangled at a perilous height above the paved expanse of the King's Highway.

BumpWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu