Bang Goes a Troll (2 page)

The goblin looked down at its bat. “What to do, little bat? What to do?” he muttered.

“Give that to me, goblin,” Baron Marackai ordered.

“No! Not my bat!”

The Baron reached for the bat in the goblin's hands. “I SAID, GIVE IT TO ME!”

A
T THE
RSPCB,
THE
R
OYAL
S
OCIETY FOR THE
Prevention of Cruelty to Beasts, Ulf was riding his ATV through the beast park. The sun was shining as he sped across the Great Grazing Grounds then up onto the bridge above the meat-eaters' enclosures. Beneath him, in brick-walled pens, carnivorous beasts looked up: a gorgon hissed, a long-haired minotaur snorted at him, and an Egyptian scorpius rattled its tail.

Halfway along the bridge, Ulf stopped and looked over at a beast with the body of a giraffe and the head of a piranha. This was the giranha, the
tallest of all the meat-eaters. Its head was as high as the bridge. It turned toward Ulf, gnashing its teeth.

Ulf reached into a feeding-sack on the back of his ATV and picked out a frozen chicken. “Lunchtime,” he called, throwing the chicken across to the giranha.

The beast lunged with its long neck and snapped the chicken out of the air. Ulf watched as it gobbled the chicken whole.

“You're going home today,” he told it. “Orson's coming to fetch you.”

Ulf turned, hearing the trees part at the edge of the Dark Forest. Orson the giant came striding out with a thick rope looped over his shoulder. “How is she?” the giant boomed.

“She's doing fine,” Ulf called.

Orson strode to the gate of the giranha's enclosure and slid its metal bolt. As the giant pulled the gate open, the giranha reared up on its hind legs. “Whoa there!” Orson said.

The giranha stomped its hooves into the ground, gouging out great chunks of earth. It started screeching.

“Easy girl,” Orson said, clipping a beast collar to the end of his rope. The giranha lunged for him with open jaws, and Orson clicked the collar around the beast's neck. He heaved on the rope with his powerful arms, bringing the giranha under control.

Orson was huge. He could handle any beast. He looked at Ulf on the bridge. “Off you go.”

Ulf revved his bike engine, then rode down the end of the bridge waving another frozen chicken in the air. “Here girl, come and get it,” he called.

The giranha swung its head around to watch him.

“That's it, Ulf,” Orson said. “Now let her have it!”

Ulf threw the chicken into the air. Orson relaxed the rope and the giranha lunged from its enclosure, catching the chicken in its jaws.

Ulf held a third chicken over his head as he rode into the Dark Forest. “Come and get your food,” he called.

He sped along the forest track and heard the giranha stomping behind him, pushing through the trees. He threw the chicken over his head, then glanced back to see the beast snap the frozen bird from the branches. Orson gripped the rope tightly, stopping the giranha from charging. Ulf held up a fourth chicken and accelerated away, luring the beast through the forest.

A sparkle flew across the track in front of him. It was Tiana the fairy. “Hello, Ulf,” she said.

“Mind out, Tiana,” Ulf called, swerving. “The giranha's coming!”

Tiana was Ulf's friend and lived in the Dark Forest with the other fairies. She was gathering leaves to make an autumn cloak.

She darted behind a tree and peered out nervously as the giranha stomped past, spitting out
chicken bones.

Ulf rode on around the swamp and through the bracken. He jumped his bike over fallen branches and skidded on wet leaves. He splashed through puddles, and mud flew up from the ATV's wheels, splattering his jeans and T-shirt. Then the trees thinned and he rode out into the afternoon sun. He heard the screech of the giranha as it came out of the forest behind him, followed by Orson.

The giant called to him: “Tell Dr. Fielding the giranha's ready to go!”

The RSPCB was a rescue center for rare and endangered beasts. The giranha had been brought in three months earlier, suffering from a broken hind leg. Dr. Fielding, the RSPCB vet, had inserted a meter-long metal rod into its thigh bone to mend it. Orson had helped the giranha get strong again by taking it swimming in the freshwater lake. Now it was fully recovered and ready to be released back into the wild.

Ulf sped along the edge of the freshwater lake and into the paddock. The jackalopes were leaping in the sunshine. He heard a griffin screech from the aviary and looked across to see it landing in the branches of an oak tree. Ulf placed his hairy feet onto the foot bars and stood up on his ATV, twisting back the bike's throttle with his hairy hand.

Though he looked like a human boy, Ulf was
beast blood
. He was a werewolf, a morphing beast, and on the full moon he would change from boy to wolf. The RSPCB was his home.

“Open,” he called as he reached a gate at the top of the paddock. The voice-activated gate opened automatically and he rode into the yard, pulling up outside a large country mansion. This was Farraway Hall, the headquarters of the RSPCB. Ulf stood up on his bike seat and peered in an open window. “Dr. Fielding,” he called.

“One moment, Ulf.”

He could see Dr. Fielding in her office. She was
on the telephone, speaking into the handset: “That's terrific news, Minister. Antarctic dragons are the only flightless dragons in existence. A preservation order is long overdue. Thank you.”

She put the phone down. “What is it, Ulf?”

“Orson's bringing the giranha in,” Ulf told her.

“Excellent. The transporter's waiting. I'll meet you out front.”

Ulf rode round to the forecourt at the front of Farraway Hall. Parked by the entrance gates was the tallest truck he'd ever seen. Its back doors were open and a ramp led up inside. It had straw on the floor and a trough of water.

He heard the stomping of hooves coming around the side of the house. He looked back and saw the giranha, being held by Orson. “Easy, girl,” the giant said.

Ulf threw four frozen chickens into the back of the truck. The giranha saw them and stomped up the ramp. It screeched, then snapped one of them
from the straw.

“That's it, big friend,” Orson said to the beast. “Eat it up.”

While the giranha munched the chicken, Orson attached harnessing straps around its body to keep it steady on the long journey ahead. He stepped down and closed the doors. “Thanks, Ulf,” he said.

Dr. Fielding came out from the house and went over to the truck to speak to the driver in his cab. “Look after her,” she said. “She's a soppy old thing really.”

“I'll see she makes it back safely,” the driver replied, starting the truck's engine.

Ulf jumped off his ATV and opened the front gates. He watched as the truck drove out, heading away up the long driveway. The giranha was going back to its home in the African jungle. Ulf felt glad. He imagined it roaming free, pushing through the jungle trees.

“Well done, everyone,” Dr. Fielding said, as she bolted the gates shut. “One giranha safely mended
and returning to the wild.”

Ulf smiled then hopped back on his ATV and rode after Orson. The giant was striding across the yard, whistling. “Do you need a hand with anything else?” Ulf asked.

“No thanks, Ulf. I've just got to give the sandwhale its scrub, then I'm done,” Orson said. He picked up a broom from beside the kit room and slipped it into his belt. “You get yourself something to eat, Ulf,” the giant told him. “You need to be strong for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow night Ulf's transformation would take place. The moon would be full and he'd change from boy to wolf.

While Orson headed toward the desert dome, Ulf parked his bike by the feedstore. He fetched a sausage from the meat fridge, and sat on the paddock gate, eating it. The Mexican jackalopes were leaping in the long grass. He heard the low bellow of the Mongolian armorpod from out on
the Great Grazing Grounds, and from Sunset Mountain came the
hurroooooo
of Bigfoot.

All the beasts would one day leave and go back to their homes in the wild, he thought. Ulf wondered when it would be his turn. He'd lived at the RSPCB almost all his life, ever since he'd been brought in as a werecub.

Ulf saw a sparkle shooting high over the paddock. It was Tiana the fairy.

“Look, Ulf,” she called, pointing. She was flying toward Farraway Hall, following a little black bat.

“A messenger bat!” Ulf said excitedly. He jumped off the gate and ran towards the house, watching the bat circle above the chimney pots. It perched on the nose of a stone gargoyle that was leaning from the rooftop.

Uh-oh
, Ulf thought.

The gargoyle turned from stone to flesh. It reached up. “Gotcha!” it said, cupping its hands around the little black bat.

“Leave it alone, Druce!” Tiana yelled.

Druce the gargoyle stuck his yellow tongue out at the fairy then scuttled down a drainpipe, clutching the bat.

“Drop it, Druce!” Ulf said, running over. “It's a messenger bat.”

“Messagy bat,” Druce gurgled, jumping to the ground. “Drucey caught it.” The gargoyle held the bat close to his chest and pulled an ugly face.

Just then, the side door of Farraway Hall opened and Dr. Fielding came out. “What's all the noise?”

“A messenger bat's come in,” Ulf explained.

Dr. Fielding looked at the gargoyle. “Druce, give that to me,” she said.

The gargoyle's mouth drooped.

“Be good, Druce,” she warned, stepping over to him.

Druce opened his hands and Dr. Fielding took the small black bat. “Thank you.”

“Blurgh!” Druce replied, blowing a raspberry, then he scurried back up the drainpipe to the roof.

“Who's it from?” Ulf asked.

Dr. Fielding held the bat, inspecting a small gold ring on its leg. Engraved on the ring was a code. “Spotter NOR8,” Dr. Fielding read.

Tucked into the ring was a scrap of paper. “Ulf, could you check the message, please?”

While Dr. Fielding held the bat, Ulf carefully pulled out the scrap of paper from the ring. He unrolled it. Scrawled on it was a single word: HELP!