Clover Twig and the Incredible Flying Cottage by Kaye Umansky

Author:Kaye Umansky [Umansky, Kaye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780747590637
Amazon: 074759063X
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Published: 2008-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Mesmeranza Prepares

And now we must move on a few hours. Back to Castle Coldiron where somewhere behind the thick gray clouds, the sun is setting. Light is draining from the sky, and soon it will be dark, since night comes quickly in the mountains.

Where is Mesmeranza? What is she doing?

She is in the dining room, inspecting a collection of items assembled at one end of a long, polished table. Tonight, she is all in red. Red gown, a red comb in her hair, and, of course, the red shoes. A small, bejewelled purse hangs at her waist from a golden chain.

The dining room is lit by dusty chandeliers. Several have lost their crystals and don’t look very nice close up, although they give a good effect from a distance. There is a long crack running across the ceiling. The wood panelling is chipped here and there. What the room needs is a good old face lift, just like the rest of the castle, but it won’t get it. Not tonight, anyway. More important things are afoot.

The items on the table have been searched for, found, gathered together, carted up and down long corridors and many flights of stairs, and finally laid out on the table by Miss Fly, who is still gasping from the effort. Her allergy is even worse. She has developed a cold sore, and can’t say her M’s, T’s, N’s, or P’s. Even her C’s have gone missing. In fact, she may well require a translation.

The items laid out on the table are as follows:

A pair of Hypnospecs. (We have seen these before, and in action.)

A plain, black, deceptively innocent stick, pointed at one end, like an extra long chopstick.

A furled umbrella, also black, with little lightning bolts carved on the handle.

Next to that is a large empty space and then, at the end of the table, a cake. A wonderful looking cake, sitting resplendent on a plate fringed with a paper doily. It is covered in white sugar icing and tied with a red bow. There is a single, succulent red cherry placed perfectly in the very center.

“Mrs. Chunk has outdone herself,” said Mesmeranza. “The cake is magnificent. At least one person does their job properly in this castle. I take it that’s the Poncho?” She pointed to the empty space between the Umbrella and the cake.

“Yes,” said Miss Fly. “Id is.”

Mesmeranza wiggled her fingers in the space. “Where?”

“Oh doh! Id was here a biddid ago. Id musd have slibbed dowd.” (Oh no! It was here a minute ago. It must have slipped down.)

Miss Fly scuttled forward and began batting at thin air. Then she bent down and peered under the table.

“Hurry up,” said Mesmeranza.

“I’b lookig. Id’s by doze, I cad breed.” (I’m looking. It’s my nose, I can’t breathe.)

Face flushed, gasping for breath, Miss Fly staggered upright and clutched at the table.

“I’ve god all dizzy. I cad bed doud.” (I’ve gone all dizzy. I can’t bend down.)

“So? Don’t expect me to look. You lost it.

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