The Adventures of King Midas (Red Storybook) by Lynne Reid Banks

Author:Lynne Reid Banks [Hilda Offen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780007529964
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

“Is there sugar in it?” asked Midas with a little gulp.

“Ah! You have a sweet tooth!” she said indulgently. “I have something very special for that!”

She moved into the dark corner Midas had been peering into before. When she turned round, she had a strange thing in her hand, a large lump of something marked with pink and white stripes.

She cracked it gently on the edge of her cauldron and broke a small chip off it which she dropped in the cup.

“This will do your cold good, too,” she said.

“What is it?”

“Something nice. Drink up!” she coaxed.

The King’s eyes were getting used to the dark, and now he could see, in the corner, a little tree growing in a pot. It wasn’t like any other tree the King had ever seen. It had gnarled, spreading branches covered with furry grey moss, and more of the strange fruits looking like pink-striped candy the size of his fist.

“Is that a flandy-bake tree?” asked the King.

“A what?” asked the witch sharply, looking round. “Oh, no, no, no! Whatever made you think that? That’s a blundernut bush. Come along now, drink up your tea while it’s hot.”

But something in her manner, when he’d mentioned the flandy-bakes, made him hesitate.

“Er – are you sure this tea is – all right?”

The witch drew back. Tears came to her eyes.

“It’s not fair,” she said, with heartfelt sincerity. “Just because I’m a witch, you think I’m untrustworthy. It’s witchism, that’s what it is! You’re prejudiced against witches!”

“I assure you, I’m the most unprejudiced man alive!” said the King. “I judge everyone according to how they treat me!”

“And haven’t I treated you well?” she murmured, wiping her old eyes with a lace hanky.

The sight of her tears sent a pang of remorse through Midas. Hadn’t he caused enough hurt? All doubts fled.

“Yes, you have! Oh, please don’t cry!” said the King. “I’ll drink your tea at once, I’m dying for some!”

She lifted the cup again to his lips. He drank its contents to the last drop.

“Excellent cuppa, that,” he said. “Would you be kind enough to – to wipe my moustache?”

She obliged him, and then said, rather oddly, “You’ll soon feel better. Shall we have another log on the fire?”

She threw on a funny, twisted log and sat on a high stool. She said nothing more, but sat quite still, with her hands folded, as if waiting for something.

The light in the cave seemed to have faded, and the King noticed that the fire was now burning with blue and green flames, as if she had thrown tinsel on it. Strange black smoke began to drift into the room. Everything grew darker and darker.

“Er – your fire’s smoking,” said the King, giving a little cough. But the witch just sat there with the blackness swirling round her.

The King was feeling oddly sleepy, but when he closed his eyes, his head spun and he opened them again with an effort.

What he saw made him wonder if he had fallen asleep and was having a ghastly nightmare.

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