Brigid Lucy and the Princess Tower (5 page)

BOOK: Brigid Lucy and the Princess Tower
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Oo-laa-coo-laa-stinky-pooh-laa!
That book must be really special.

Biddy loves reading. I do, too. So we run towards the book. Biddy’s shoes go
tink, tink, tink!
on the stone floor. And then they go
tap, tap, tap!
up the steps into the little balcony.

The balcony is so high up, we can see the whole Great Hall. But the book is even higher up than we are. Biddy stretches up on tippy-toes, trying to see the words in the book, reaching, stretching.

She can just touch the edges of the book with her fingertips. But she can’t see it properly, so I go and look for her.

I run up her arm to the ends of her fingers and touch the pages. They are so soft. And they’re covered in thousands and
millions
of words, all in neat rows. And running down the middle of the pages is a long silky red ribbon, like a giant bookmark.

Biddy wants to see the book for herself. She holds onto the sides of the shelf.

Then she uses her feet against the wall to pull herself up, up,
up

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ a huge deep voice booms from down in the Great Hall.

Biddy spins around and ducks down behind the griffin. I run back up her arm, dive into her hair and hide.

‘That is definitely not a good idea,’ the huge deep voice
booms
again.

What if the person speaking is the king? What if this is his most secret sacred book that no one is allowed to look at? What if he finds me and Biddy here, and locks us in a cell high up in the tower for the whole of infinity?

Chapter seven

a dark and terrible secret

‘This door must stay
locked
,’ the huge deep voice says next.

Biddy sneaks up and peeks around the griffin’s wing, so we can see who is talking. The owner of the huge deep voice is a
tall man
in a long dress, like a king. He and another man have just come out of a door in the side of the Great Hall. There is a sign on the door which says ‘Tower Staircase’.

‘No one must have access to the tower,’ the king-looking person says. ‘Princess Rapunzel must stay gagged and
hidden
until the time is right.’

‘Yes, Your Grace,’ the other man nods. He closes the door and locks it tight.

Then he hides the key on a hook behind a tapestry on the wall.

Your Grace?
I think. Do they call kings ‘Your Grace’? They must do.

Oh
look
! The king-looking person is holding out his hand, and there is a huge sparkling ring on it. The second man bows and kisses the ring! The king-looking person
must
really be a king. Kings often have magic rings. And people do kiss them. I’ve read about that. And see how the other man keeps his head bowed until the king turns away and then he walks behind.

This is too scary. Kings with magic rings are
incredibly
dangerous. If this king catches us reading his book, he will use his magic ring to turn us into toads or stars or pieces of infinity. The oldest of the terrible scoriaks from the Great Bushland can do that just by looking at you with their evil eyes. I’ve seen people who have been turned into pieces of infinity.

Well, I nearly have.

Anyway, I know it can happen.

Me and Biddy stay quiet as the king and the other man walk past us. They go through the alcove of gold and flowers, into the king’s private chamber. The door shuts behind them, and the sound echoes briefly around the Great Hall. Then everything is silent.

‘We’re inside a
fairy story
,’ Biddy whispers.

‘Yes, Biddy! We are in a fairy story,’ I yell. ‘That man is a dangerous king with a magic ring. We are in a very scary situation. Let’s get out of here!’

But of course Biddy can’t hear me so she just ignores me.

‘The king said that Princess Rapunzel must stay gagged and hidden in the tower,’ Biddy whispers. ‘The princess is locked in there so she doesn’t run away. She has got tape around her mouth to stop her from screaming. That’s what “gagged” means. And I bet she’s wearing a blindfold, too. I’ve got to rescue her!’

‘Rescue her?’ I say to Biddy. ‘No way! Are you mad? Do you want the king to turn us into pieces of infinity?’

What am I going to do? I’ve got to make Biddy understand. But she can’t hear me.

What if I went right inside her ear? Perhaps I could talk straight into her thoughts. I don’t want to do that, though. I don’t like dark places. But I don’t want to get turned into a piece of infinity either. So, it’s my only chance.

Okay. I take a deep breath and dive into Biddy’s ear.

Yukki-poo-la-drop-kick!

It’s dark. And—
eeuu!
The walls and floor are sticky with earwax. I make myself run as fast as I can, down, down Biddy’s ear canal, right to the end. There is a huge piece of skin stretched between the floor and the ceiling. It must be Biddy’s eardrum.

I lean against the eardrum and whisper, as quiet as thoughts, ‘Biddy. We’re in big trouble. We should run away.
Quick
! Let’s get out of this place now, and go and find Mum.’

I listen. I can hear the words echoing around in Biddy’s brain. ‘
Run away … away … away. Quick … get out … out … out.
’ And then I hear Biddy talking.

‘Quick, I have to go,’ she says, and I feel her stand up straight.

Yes! It worked! I run as fast as I can out of Biddy’s earhole. I am so happy. But then I hear Biddy say, ‘I bet Princess Rapunzel ran away from home to do
fun stuff
in the city. And the king didn’t want Princess Rapunzel to have fun, so he sent his army to catch her and bring her home.’

Biddy goes on, ‘And now he has locked up Princess Rapunzel in his tower.’

Biddy starts running down the stairs. ‘I’ve got to let the princess out,’ she says.

‘What?’ I cry. ‘No, Biddy! You heard me wrong. That is not what I said. This is not play-pretend like a storybook. This is a real-life fairy tale.’

I run onto the top of her head, and tug on her fringe. ‘Biddy, listen,’ I say. ‘We could be killed properly dead. Don’t touch the door to the tower! The king will have used his magic ring to put an evil locking-spell on it.’

But Biddy just keeps running
tink, tink, tink!
across the stone floor to the door with the sign that says ‘Tower Staircase’. Then she takes the key from behind the tapestry, and uses it to unlock the door.

As soon as she opens that door, we will be struck down by an evil spell.


Noooo!
’ I cry, and burrow down inside one of Biddy’s plaits. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around my head. My whole body is shaking.

Chapter eight

the monster stairwell

Click!
The door to the tower staircase unlocks.
Creak!
It opens. And,
clunk!
The door closes ever so quietly behind us. I open my eyes.

We are still alive.

We are standing in a tiny room. There is a stone staircase spiralling up above our heads. It’s like a cave that has been dug out from beneath the surface of the earth. Like, you know, where trolls live!

I don’t like it. Not that I’m a scaredy chicken-heart lacy-petticoat or anything. It’s just that stairwells are very dangerous places. All sorts of goblins and scoriaks and terrible beasties live in stairwells.

I even know why monsters live in stairwells. It’s because old stairwells like this are lined with ancient humanness.

Over hundreds of years, the humans who worked in this building have climbed up these stairs to see to the prisoners at the top. And, as each human passed, they left something behind, a hair, a flake of skin, a tiny piece of toenail, a dribble of sweat.

These small pieces of humanness fall and settle in corners. They pile up, layer upon layer, along with the rat poo and cockroach feelers.

It is
true
! Look. See that grey film against the wall? The one that looks like dust? Well, that dust is really flakes of humanness. There is enough there to feed a whole tribe of terrible
beasts
.

Biddy stretches out her hands to touch the walls.

‘No, Biddy!’ I scream. ‘Don’t touch the walls. There are terrible gnashing monsters in here!’


Monsters?
’ Biddy whispers. She pulls her hands back from the walls.

Yes! Finally she is listening to me
, I think.

‘Biddy, come on,’ I yell, poking my head out of the end of her plait. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

But, she doesn’t. She just tells herself firmly, using Mum’s voice, ‘Now, Biddy, don’t be silly. There are no such things as monsters. And even if there were, you can’t just run away. You’ve got to be brave and save Princess Rapunzel.’

‘No! Biddy, please!’ I scream. ‘Let a grown-up save Princess Rapunzel.’

But Biddy just purses her mouth, balls her hands up into fists and starts skipping up the stairs. She sings in a determined voice, ‘
I am bra-ave. I am strong. I am big-ger than a, a, a, tyr-anno-sau-rus
.’

‘You are
not
brave and strong,’ I yell. ‘You are just a little girl! And, anyway,
tyrannosaurus
doesn’t rhyme with
strong
!’

But she won’t listen to me, so I have to give up. I duck into Biddy’s hair and hide.

The monsters are going to trip Biddy up, or bite her feet, or jump on her and
gobble
her up whole! I don’t want to see it.

But, what about me? If they eat Biddy, they will eat me, too!

I’ve got to save Biddy, or that will be the end of both of us. I jump out of her plait. But I don’t have a weapon. I must have a weapon to fight the monsters.

Then I remember Biddy is wearing a hairclip, to keep the hair above her plaits in place. Yes! The hairclip has a sharp, pointy end. I can use it for a sword.

I grab the hairclip, bend it straight to make a sword and run down one of Biddy’s plaits. Then I slip into the hair elastic at the very end of the plait. With the hair elastic around my waist, I can’t fall out of Biddy’s hair.

As Biddy runs, her plaits swing around her head.

I
slash!
and
switch!
and
slice!
and
gash!
with my sword in the air.

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