Mr Gum and the Goblins (5 page)

‘Farewell, good travellers,' said Alan Taylor, as Polly hugged him goodbye.

‘Farewell, my crumbly friend,' said Friday, stooping to tickle the little fellow under the chin. And, having said their goodbyes, the courageous pair turned on their heels and started off down the long and winding road that would take them to Goblin Mountain.

It had started to snow once more, soft white flakes that fell from the sky like angels' tears. Soon the travellers were just dots in the distance and eventually Alan Taylor could not make them out at all.

'Tis a brave and lonely day,
he thought as he stood there, shivering in the icy wind.
Will I ever see those two again?

Then he ate his chocolate wristwatch. It sort of spoilt the moment but he'd missed breakfast.

I
t was coming on dark by the time Polly and Friday reached the foot of Goblin Mountain. The craggy rock loomed over them forbiddingly in the dismal gloom, all twisted like
one of those crazy curly twirly funtime drinking straws you sometimes get. They're hilarious!
an old witch's finger.

‘Polly,' said Friday, ruffling Polly's hair affectionately with a hair-ruffling machine set to the ‘affectionate' setting. ‘Are you absolutely four hundred per cent sure you want to do this?'

But before Polly could answer, the wind howled louder than ever, and up blew a great blanket of snow, turning the world completely white so she couldn't see a thing.

‘Friday!'
yelled Polly in the sudden emptiness. ‘What's a-happenin'?'

‘I don't knooooooow!' came Friday's reply – but he sounded a very long way off and in between all that wind and snow, Polly didn't know which way was which. And now she seemed to hear peculiar noises – wolves a-howling, haunting voices from the past, doorbells ringing in outer space, the sound of a milkmaid sitting on a watermelon . . .

‘Meep,'
whimpered Polly in a small voice.
‘It's all crazy an' scary, like them late night films on TV what isn't for children's eyes!'

But then the unsettling noises were replaced by another sound, faint at first but growing louder. It was the merry tinkle of a music box, and as it grew in strength the blanket of snow cleared clean away. With some surprise, Polly saw she was still standing at the foot of the mountain, although for some reason Friday was halfway up a fir tree.

And now the sound of the music box seemed to be everywhere as a small boy came walking towards them through the snow. And just seeing that boy filled the travellers with warmth, for it was none other than the Spirit of the Rainbow.

‘Child,' he greeted Polly, though he was no older than she. ‘For weeks I have lain awake thinking about your brave journey.'

‘But we only thought of settin' off this very mornin',' said Polly in wonder.

‘I see many things,' came the boy's amazing reply. ‘Past and future, it does not matter which, for I see it all.'

‘Spirit of the Rainbow,' said Friday, climbing down from the fir tree. ‘YOU were the voice in my dream, telling me to come on this quest! You were, weren't you, you little scamp!'

‘Old man, I've no idea what you're on about,' answered the lad. ‘But you will soon face great troubles, so I have come to help you on your way.'

And then the Spirit of the Rainbow turned his face to the sky and spoke a few strange words, words from long ago before the World began.
And when he turned back a moment later, he was bearing Great Gifts in his honest hands.

‘Here,' he said. And very solemnly he presented Friday with a fabulous horn. It shimmered with all the colours of the Universe, and it had a cool picture of a monkey wearing sunglasses on the side.

‘Behold! The legendary Horn of Q'zaal Q'zaal, forged thousands of years ago by the High Otter Priests of Bastos,' said the boy.
‘When you blow upon it I will come to your aid. But be warned – you may use it only once. After that it is powerless forever.'

Then the boy turned to Polly and handed her his second gift. It was a fruit chew.

‘Behold!' said the boy, ‘the Fruit Chew of Babylon. It might not look as good as the Horn of Q'zaal Q'zaal,' he admitted. ‘But a time may come when you learn of its true greatness.'

‘Thank you,' said Polly. ‘But, please – won't you come with us an' help us out?'

‘I wish I could,' sighed the Spirit of the Rainbow. ‘But long ago before the World began, I made a deal with Robert, the Creator of All Things. And the deal is that I can only help out every now and then. Besides, I have to revise for my maths exam or my Mum will kill me.'

‘Spirit!'
called a voice from down the way.
‘You get inside right now an' learn yer fractions!'

‘See?' said the Spirit of the Rainbow. And off he ran.

‘I bet it WAS him in my dream,' said Friday, watching him go. ‘That's just the sort of thing he'd get up to.'

So, armed with their Great Gifts, the travellers continued on their way feeling far more courageous than before. But their courage would have turned to porridge and been eaten by the
Bears of Doubt if they'd known who was watching them. For high up in his cave, the Goblin King was observing the travellers' every move.

‘B
LEM!'
yelled the Goblin King furiously as he peered into a golden telescope he'd ‘borrowed' from a department store. ‘It's them meddlers! Comin' up the mountain to meddle with me tunnel-diggin' plans, no doubt!'

‘Don't fret, me old shoelace,' coughed the Burger Wizard, choking on a pipe full of horse fat. ‘They'll never make it past the Three Impossible Challenges.'

‘Phew,' said the Goblin King. ‘I'd forgotten about them blurpin' challenges what all travellers climbing Goblin Mountain have to face. Oho,' he cried, turning back to the telescope, ‘here comes the first challenge now!'

‘This is gonna be really funty!' snickered B.W.
(You see, that was how the Burger Wizard pronounced the word ‘funny'.)

 

At that precise moment down on the mountainside the earth shook and trembled, and a dirty great troll stepped out from behind a boulder. He had greasy hair because he only bought cheap shampoo, and like all proper trolls he carried a knobbly wooden club with a nail through it. Oh, he was a fearsome sight. As tall as three men he was, and he went to the gym every week to keep his
muscles strong for crushing travellers, and also to impress the girl trolls. Polly hid behind Friday, and Friday hid behind an atom but it was no good – the troll spotted them anyway.

‘RIGHT,'
he shouted in a great booming voice.
‘SHUT UP AND DON'T MOVE!'
He took a roll of parchment from his nostril and began to read: