Muddle Earth by Chris Riddell

Author:Chris Riddell [Riddell Chris, and Stewart Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781447229476
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

The dragon put a claw to her thin lips. ‘Sssshhh!’ she hissed. ‘I won’t tell you again.’

For a second time, the cutlery became quieter. Not silent. But quiet enough for Joe to hear another noise – a curious muffled grunting and groaning which was coming from somewhere near the wall.

‘Grrrmmbll flammell-flan,’ the voice complained. ‘Pfleeem . . .’

Joe peered into the shadows. There – not ten metres away from the entrance to the cave – was a portly figure, seated on the floor, struggling to remove a large metal bucket which was wedged firmly on to his head. Joe stared . . .

‘Randalf?’ he said. ‘Is that you?’

‘Omm kmomf miff!’ the voice bellowed back.

Joe strode across and seized the bucket. ‘Take hold of his legs, Norbert,’ he said. ‘And when I give the word, pull.’

Norbert did as he was told. Veronica sat on his head, watching. Henry wagged his tail slowly.

‘All set?’ said Joe.

The cutlery clanged and clattered behind them.

Norbert tightened his grip on the wizard’s ankles. ‘All set,’ he said.

‘Pull!’ yelled Joe.

At first – apart from a loud echoing scream from the bucket – nothing happened. Joe altered his grip.

‘Again!’ he cried.

This time, as Norbert tugged the legs, Joe twisted the bucket. There was a loud pop! Norbert let go of the ankles and fell down. Joe staggered backwards, the bucket in his hand. And there between them – still seated on the ground with his legs stuck out in front of him – was Randalf. He blinked twice.

‘Waargh!’ he screamed as he saw the dragon. ‘She tried to eat me!’

The dragon groaned. ‘Typical,’ she said. ‘Here we go again.’

‘She did!’ Randalf insisted indignantly. ‘She had hold of me and was getting ready to swallow me whole. If you hadn’t come along when you did . . .’

‘I was simply curious,’ the dragon told Joe. ‘He came with that lot,’ she added, pointing towards the noisy cutlery. ‘I thought he was a free gift.’

‘A free gift?’ Randalf spluttered, outraged.

‘The trouble was, he would wriggle so!’ the dragon went on. ‘He slipped out of my grip and dropped down, headfirst, and got wedged in that,’ she said, nodding at the bucket. ‘It was entirely his own fault.’ She leaned down and pulled Randalf to his feet. ‘Now, if you’ll just keep still, you funny little man, and allow me to introduce myself. I am Margot . . .’

‘A free gift!’ Randalf bellowed. ‘How dare you!’

The cutlery was getting louder again, with one group of meat cleavers particularly rowdy. The dragon clasped her head.

‘I am,’ she moaned. ‘I’m getting one of my migraines.’

Clatter! Clatter! Clink! Clonk!

‘A free gift indeed.’ Randalf shook his head. ‘I’ll have you know, madam, that I am a wizard. Randalf the Wise is my name; wizardry, my game. Indeed, I am the finest wizard currently in residence upon the Enchanted Lake.’

‘The only wizard, more like,’ Veronica cut in.

‘Shut up, Veronica!’ said Randalf.

‘Wizard, eh?’ said Margot, looking up. She nodded back at the cutlery wearily. ‘In that case, perhaps you could get that lot to quieten down a bit.

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