Mr Gum and the Power Crystals (9 page)

‘HA HA HA!'
Nicholas' mad laughter boomed
through the Heavens though he himself belonged only in Hell, or maybe inside a special prison for naughty giant faces made of weather. And he was still laughing as Mr Gum and Billy crossed the rickety wooden bridge, dragging Polly along behind them.

At last!
whispered the power crystals, glowing bright against the darkness.
We're finally going back to the windmill where we were made!

‘THAT'S RIGHT,'
boomed Nicholas de
Twinklecakes.
‘THANKS FOR ALL YOUR HELP, MR GUM.'

‘No problem, Nick-Nacks, me old trifle,' laughed Mr Gum. ‘You don't mind if I call you Nick-Nacks, do you?'

‘I DO MIND A LITTLE BIT,'
admitted Nicholas.
‘PLEASE TRY NOT TO DO IT AGAIN. NOW GO AND MAKE MY AMAZING CURSE COME TRUE!'

‘No problem, Nick-Nacks,' grinned Mr Gum. And with that he snurfled through the dark
doorway and into the windmill. Billy William snooded in after him, and Polly had no choice but to follow.

‘W
hisker me shabbas,' muttered Mr Gum. ‘It's dark in here!'

As if in response, the power crystals began to glow with their strange pink and white light, pulsing in and out like a disco for vampires. And in that eerie glow Polly saw the windmill's
machinery, full of cogs and wheels and cruel sharp metal teeth that would slice and dice and splice whatever came their way. She shivered to think of its awful power.

Jus' a-lyin' in wait 'til it starts up again,
she thought.
Like a Godzilla what's only pretendin' to be dead but when you poke it with a spoon it quickly springs up an' munches your face off.

Beyond the machinery rose a flight of rotten
wooden stairs, disappearing into the darkness above. And now, holding the crystals before them like a torch, the villains began to climb.

CLURP. CLURP. CLURP.

Up those stairs they clurped in their hobnail boots and once more Polly had no choice but to follow, the rubbery intestine rope cutting into her wrists all the while.

‘Forces of Good,' she prayed under her breath, ‘It's Polly here. I hopes you're well.
Thanks for last weekend when I found that pound coin in the park. Anyway, listen, right? If ever I did needed a miracle it's now, so won't you sends help?'

‘Will this do?' whispered a voice from above and Polly felt a small weight land on her right shoulder, almost causing her to cry out. But suddenly she realised – it was her good friend Alan Taylor, the gingerbread headmaster with electric muscles!

‘A.T., is it really you?' she replied as softly as she could.

‘Yes, Polly,' he whispered. ‘Old Granny told me what was happening. I've been hiding in the
rafters waiting for you to arrive. Now hold still.'

And bravely little Alan Taylor nibbled through the rope of intestines that bound Polly, even though he had recently turned vegetarian for religious reasons.

‘There,' he whispered. ‘You're free.'

‘What's that whisperin'?' cried Mr Gum suddenly, spinning around fast as a toffee apple. But Alan Taylor was faster still, and quickly he hid in Polly's hair.

‘Why, it's only the wind a-howlin',' explained Polly. ‘Sometimes it sounds jus' like Alan Taylor, I've often noticed. But Alan Taylor himself is probbly miles away teachin' his pupils all 'bout the natural world.'

‘Well, he better be,' snapped Mr Gum, with a vicious gnash of his teeth. ‘If I see that little tungler 'round here I'll scoff him up once an' for all.'

By now the criminals had reached the small room at the very top of the windmill. And there
it sat – the Power Crystal Control Panel that Nicholas de Twinklecakes had made out of floorboards all those years ago. On the top were two slots, exactly the right shape and size for the power crystals. But which crystal went in which slot? It didn't say.

‘How does this blibberin' thing work?' snarled Mr Gum in frustration. ‘I ain't got time for no riddles from the past!'

‘Oi, Nick-Nacks!' yelled Billy, sticking his
head out of the window into the dark night sky. ‘Which way round do them crystals go?'

‘I CAN'T REMEMBER,
' shrugged Nicholas. ‘
I HAVE BEEN DEAD FOR NEARLY FIVE HUNDRED YEARS, YOU KNOW.
'

While the villains were distracted, Alan Taylor was busy fastening on a brand new pair of goggles for his traditional ‘jump-at-the-baddies' bit. He loved jumping at the baddies and who could blame him? He was absolutely superb at it.
Yet even while he fastened his goggles he was busy teaching Polly about the natural world he loved so much.

‘Many animals make their home inside windmills,' he explained. ‘For instance, that small white thing in the corner is known as a “mouse”. And that small grey thing next to it is known as “some fluff”. But now to business,' he whispered. His goggles were ready at last.

‘GINGERBREAD, GINGERBREAD, RAH-RAH-RAH!'

And so saying, Alan Taylor launched himself from Polly's shoulder straight for his number one target.

‘TAYLOR!'
roared Mr Gum in pain as the fearless biscuit bit into his big wibbling nose. The villain's hands flew to his face and the power crystals dropped from his clutches, falling to the floor with a hollow clinking sound.

For a moment everyone just stood there as they took in what had happened. Then suddenly they all dived at once.

‘Got one!' cried Polly, grabbing hold of the white crystal as she skidded wildly over the smooth wooden floor.

‘Got one!' shouted Billy, slurping up the pink crystal with his long grey tongue. In a smelly flash Billy ran over to the Control Panel and dribbled the crystal into one of the slots. But
was it the right slot?

Slowly the windmill's cruel sharp machinery cranked up.

‘
GOOD GUESS, BUTCHER GUY!'
cried Nicholas de Twinklecakes' enormo-face from outside the window. ‘
NOW PUT THE OTHER ONE IN, SMALL GIRL!
'

‘No way, you historical roo-de-lally!' shot back Polly. ‘I'm not doin' your dirty works!'

‘
RAAARRRGGH!
' roared Nicholas. ‘
THEN FACE THE MIGHTY FURY OF MY FURIOUS MIGHTY FACE!
', and once more he did lightning bolts out his nose, it was horrible.

Polly leapt round the room, dodging those bad zappers for her very life, but Nicholas had other tricks up his face. Suddenly he puffed out those colossal thundercloud cheeks of his and
He spat a big jet of rain right at Polly,
knocking the white crystal from her hand.

Up towards the ceiling the crystal flew, spinning, spinning, end over end – and then all at once, down it plummeted, straight towards the empty slot in the Control Panel.

Yes!
laughed the white crystal gleefully as it fell.
Time to fulfil my evil Destiny at last!

‘NO!' cried Alan Taylor, and with all his electric muscles whirring he leapt desperately from Mr Gum's nose towards the misbehaving crystal.

He smashed it away with his gingerbread hand, and in that moment Alan Taylor was the true King Of Heroes you've ever seen or heard about on TV, for he had saved the whole of Lamonic Bibber from going up in flames. No two ways about it, it was his best jump ever.

But was it also to be his last? The next moment Alan Taylor was hurtling towards the slot himself, his juicy raisin eyes wide with fear.

‘Polly!' he gasped. ‘See that thing with six legs crawling on the wall? It is known as a “beetl–”'

But his words were lost as he fell into the slot and was swallowed up in the grinding machinery below. All those cogs and wheels and cruel metal teeth. A spray of biscuit crumbs went up, his electric muscles whirred one last time . . .

And that was the end of little Alan Taylor, a teacher of the natural world till his dying breath.