The Royal Bake Off Page 2

  ‘What?’ went Anna.

  ‘… ice …’

  ‘Pardon?’ whispered Holly.

  ‘… monsters …’

  ‘Oh, not monsters again!’ groaned Pepino.

  ‘… and even more scarytastic, terrifying dangers!’

  ‘I’ll leave you in charge of those, kids,’ said King Steve. ‘I’ll need to focus on the baking.’

  ‘But also really nice glazed cherries,’ Molly promised.

  ‘The motto of this Royal Bake Off,’ Charlus said, ‘is … CAKE OR DEATH!’

  ‘CAKE OR DEATH! CAKE OR DEATH!’ the crowd chanted.

  ‘Oh, great,’ grumbled Anna, rolling her eyes. ‘I should have guessed it wouldn’t just be a matter of measuring out flour in fluid ounces.’

  ‘I don’t like this motto,’ piped Molly. ‘Why can’t it be about cinnamon buns instead?’

  ‘Why not cinnamon buns AND death?’ Charlus yelled. ‘Tomorrow, the first task will take our contestants to the scorchingly frazzling, red hot, snake-infested Grand Yeswecanyon!’

  ‘OOOOHHHHH!’ went the crowd, as threatening music started and a red light shone on the contestants.

  ‘Anna, Pepino, look,’ Holly muttered. ‘Where are the Easter assistants going?’

  The Easter Princess’s assistants had jumped off the stage and were heading down the darkened landing strip.

  ‘I don’t want to stay here either! I’m leaving too,’ Pepino said.

  ‘For once, I agree with Pepino,’ said Anna. ‘Let’s go. No one’s looking at us.’

  Charlus and Molly were now interviewing the contestants, and the Filmcrews were busy fluttering around them. Holly, Anna and Pepino discreetly fled the stage.

  ‘Look,’ Holly whispered. ‘What are they up to?’

  The three Easter Island assistants had stopped some way down the landing strip from them and were talking animatedly, staring across the Bay of Bigapple beyond the airport.

  ‘Too far,’ said one of the assistants to the others.

  ‘Try,’ said another one.

  The first Easter assistant plunged its wooden hand into its wooden body and extracted what looked like …

  ‘An Easter egg!’ Pepino whispered

  The egg glistened in the moonlight; it was made of metal. The Easter assistants flicked the egg’s steel ribbon to the right: a harsh red laser beam burst out at the top and a coil popped out of its side.

  The trio quivered with excitement as they laid the egg down on the ground, pointing the laser beam at the Apple of Liberty.

  ‘Go!’ said one of the assistants, and the egg sprang off its coil, disappearing at high speed into the night.

  ‘Into the sea,’ said one of the Easter assistants. ‘Too far, as I said.’

  ‘We’ll find a way,’ said the second one.

  ‘We’ll find a way,’ repeated the third one.

  And they all walked away.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ said Anna. ‘I don’t know what they’re here for, but clearly it’s not just to win the Royal Bake Off.’

  Chapter Four

  The contestants’ hotel rooms were on the top floor of the hundred-storey cake skyscraper. The walls were made of tooth-breakingly hard caramel. It was impossible to have a shower, since the taps only supplied golden syrup. But the three children were too tired to notice: they all fell asleep in a pile on the bed. King Steve had slept very well on the plane, so he spent the night reading comic books and munching on his complimentary marzipan bathrobe.

  The next morning, Anna, Holly, Pepino and King Steve were woken up by a flying Filmcrew crashing into their room through the windowpane, which was made of hard, transparent candy.

  ‘Oh, boy! Take a peek at those totally kooky PJs!’ roared Charlus’s voice. And the presenter slipped into the room too, standing with Molly on a purple hovercraft whose spectacular flames melted the nougat carpet.

  ‘Hey!’ Anna protested. ‘You can’t just come into our room like this!’

  ‘We’re on a hovercraft, sweetie pie – we can do whatever we want,’ said Molly. ‘Big smiles for the Filmcrew!’

  Anna made a face at the camera.

  ‘She’s got grit, that one!’ Charlus shouted. ‘Will she be the contestant everyone loves to hate? Only way to find out is to get baking! This way to the Grand Yeswecanyon!’

  ‘This way’ was a road which started right outside their window and unrolled into the distance, floating high above the earth, suspended by strong cables to the clouds above.

  ‘Bring the Pony Cars!’ Charlus shouted. A muffled noise of hooves followed and a few seconds later five Pony Cars stopped near them, whinnying welcomingly.

  ‘OK, this is pretty cool,’ Pepino said, and even Anna admitted it looked like fun.

  The contestants stepped out of the windows on the top floor of the building and got into their cars.

  ‘Looks like Emperor Sam’s assistants are more prepared than us to “bake or die”,’ Anna remarked, glancing over at them. They were all wearing chefs’ hats and carrying kitchen utensils shaped like weapons.

  ‘Ready?’ Charlus shouted.

  ‘Go!’ piped Molly.

  And the Pony Cars neighed into action, galloping down the floating highway.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ said Anna to King Steve as they whizzed past skyscrapers, ‘can I ask you a question? The Apple of Liberty, on the island – what’s in there?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said the King. ‘It’s made of solid bronze. It was a wedding gift from the King of Francia to Sam. Of course he always gets the best gifts. What did I get as a wedding present from the Francians? Just a head of garlic, not even in wrapping paper. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Just wondering,’ Anna murmured.

  The Pony Cars were going so fast that the landscape under the road was just a blur: mountains, lakes, forests, deserts, more mountains. And finally, the road began to drop.

  Very steeply.

  Very, very steeply.

  Towards …

  ‘The Grand Yeswecanyon!’ The two presenters’ excited voices resonated above the Britlanders’ heads.

  ‘Bit hot,’ King Steve noted. ‘Do you think I can go topless?’

  ‘Please don’t,’ Anna implored. ‘You’d, erm – catch sunburn.’

  ‘Oh, look!’ said Pepino. ‘So many Filmcrews are flying above our heads!’

  ‘I think it’s mostly hungry eagles, actually,’ Holly pointed out.

  VRROOOOOOM! The presenters’ hovercraft descended into the canyon. The contestants and their assistants got out of their Pony Cars, attracting a flock of busy Filmcrews.

  ‘Look at that sunshine!’ marvelled Molly’s mellow voice. ‘Did you know, my lovelies, that we call this place the World’s Greatest Natural Oven? Ideal for the task – you’ll have to bake cupcakes in the heat of the sun –’

  ‘But don’t get yourself baked by it!’ declared Charlus, making Molly wince. ‘Only way for you to get baking is to, let’s say, convince some creatures to lend you essential ingredients for the cupcakes … For starters, frazzling firefoxes! Find their holes and you might smuggle out some milk …’

  ‘Violently venomous rattlesnakes! Curled in their craters on crates of fresh flour …’

  ‘Vicious vultures! Their nests are up there – and the only path is a bit tight … But you’ll have to risk it if you want eggs!’

  ‘And many other ingredients are here and there, under stones, among scab-inducingly scalding, scar-inducingly scorching scarabs and scorpions –’

  ‘But all these little creatures have lovely souls really!’ Molly interrupted.

  ‘Remember,’ said Charlus, ‘the cupcakes have to be cooked by the time the sun disappears! Ready? Three – two – one – CAKE OR DEATH!’

  ‘All right,’ said Anna. ‘Holly, you try to find those firefoxes. Pepino, you’re in charge of the rattlesnakes.’

  ‘What? But they’re violently venomous!’

  ‘Would you rather go up there and get the eggs instead
?’

  ‘Erm, no.’

  ‘Then get that flour. I’ll get the eggs. Meanwhile, King Steve, if you could find the other ingred– … King Steve? Where’s he gone?’

  ‘Over there,’ said Holly, ‘under that tree in the shade.’

  ‘Tree’ was not quite the right word, nor was ‘under’, nor indeed ‘shade’.

  ‘What are you doing, Your Majesty?’ asked Anna. ‘You need to find ingredients for the cupcakes!’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m doing,’ said the King, and he turned over a tiny pebble next to him, and then another one, saying, ‘No ingredient! No ingredient! Still no ingredient! Oh, a red ant!’

  ‘Anna,’ said Pepino, ‘there’s smoke coming out of your nostrils.’

  ‘Please take her away,’ said the King. ‘It’s hot enough without her setting herself on fire. I’ll keep looking.’

  Anna marched off, still fuming. Holly soon came across a firefoxes’ hole. But another contestant’s assistant had found it too.

  ‘Go away,’ said Holly to the polar bear. ‘You’re terrifying the firefoxes! They’ll never leave their hole if you stay.’

  ‘GROAR,’ replied the Emir of Antarktik’s assistant.

  Holly tried to push him aside, but the bear wouldn’t budge. Even worse: the other assistant came to his rescue.

  ‘What?’ Holly cried, staring in disbelief at the snowman. ‘How are you not totally melted?’

  ‘We trained with the Emir,’ replied the snowman in a flaky voice. ‘We learnt to withstand hot temperatures. I melted all the time at first, but now I’m – almost – completely – myself …’

  Almost, but not quite – for the polar bear, who was now juggling the firefox and its two babies, was showering the snowman with fireballs …

  Soon, what was left of the assistant wasn’t a pretty sight.

  ‘Groar?’ groaned the polar bear.

  ‘Yes, keep juggling,’ said Holly, reaching into the foxes’ hole. ‘You’re getting really good at this!’

  ‘GROAR!’ replied the bear, his fur beginning to turn smoke grey.

  Holly dived into the hole and unhooked a jug of warm, hazelnut-smelling milk from the mantelpiece of the underground house.

  She then ran away again, narrowly avoiding the firefoxes that the polar bear was throwing at her.

  ‘Milk’s here!’ said Holly joyfully as she got back to King Steve. ‘Where’s Pepino?’

  ‘Gone to get more ingredients. He found me a jar of honey and said I couldn’t eat it all,’ said the King, ‘so I only ate half of it.’

  ‘Well, don’t eat any more,’ Holly sighed, rolling her eyes. ‘And don’t drink any of the milk, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ said the King, but he still dipped his fingers in the jar to taste it.

  ‘And where’s Anna?’

  ‘Up there. I’ve been watching her for ten minutes. It’s a lot of fun. Sam’s helpers collected all the ingredients in no time, but now the Empress of Downunder has sent her assistants too …’

  He pointed to a tightrope high above. Anna was edging along it towards a vulture’s nest in the rocky face of the canyon, with the Empress’s three assistants close behind. Holly gasped.

  ‘She’ll get them easily,’ the King yawned. ‘They don’t even have weapons.’

  But the three assistants pulled something out of their pockets …

  ‘Boomerangs!’ the King exclaimed. ‘That’s exciting.’

  ‘Anna!’ Holly screamed. ‘JUMP!’

  She did – just in time.

  The boomerangs whizzed towards the vulture’s nest, overtook it … came back again …

  And knocked three fat eggs out of the nest and on to the tightrope!

  Quickly, Anna jumped again, sending the three assistants of the Empress of Downunder tumbling down …

  And the eggs tumbling up … right into her arms!

  ‘Well done!’ the King clapped. ‘I should hire you as my court jester.’

  ‘Anna, are you OK?’ Holly screamed.

  Anna smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up – but just then the rope snapped.

  And Anna fell!

  Chapter Five

  ‘AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!’

  ‘CAKE OR DEATH!’ Charlus shouted from the hovercraft. ‘The first victim of the Royal Bake Off!’

  Three Filmcrews fluttered over, greedily catching Anna’s desperate face on camera as she plunged through the air …

  And she grabbed on to one of them!

  CRASH! They fell on the desert floor.

  ‘Are you all right, my darling?’ Molly asked, as the presenters’ hovercraft dashed towards the scene. ‘Let me see those little scratches …’

  ‘Little scratches!’ Charlus snorted. ‘She’s done more damage to our equipment than herself!’

  Anna got up and ran over to King Steve and Holly with the eggs, which were still in one piece. ‘Where’s Pepino?’

  ‘Here!’ said the prince. ‘I’ve found some flour. The problem is, I got stung by scorpions and bitten by snakes. I’m probably going to die.’

  He did indeed look like the animals had taken a liking to him.

  ‘Oh no,’ said his father, ‘that would be sad. But you’ve got six little brothers to be kings of Britland instead of you.’

  ‘CAKE OR DEATH!’ Charlus yelled, flying towards them so fast that Molly almost fell off the hovercraft. ‘The little Prince of Britland has been super-stung and über-bitten! He’s going to die!’

  ‘Oh, bother,’ Pepino said, and keeled over on to the sand.

  ‘AMBULANCE!’ Molly screamed.

  An Ambulance arrived to look after Pepino.

  ‘Will he be OK?’ Holly asked anxiously.

  ‘Of course,’ Charlus whispered. ‘We need him for the other tasks.’

  ‘The rattlesnakes are not that venomous,’ Molly muttered. ‘He’s probably just having little nightmares right now.’

  ‘Grrmmmmonster!’ Pepino grumbled. ‘Annamonster!’

  ‘Enough,’ Anna replied. ‘Let’s make those cupcakes. The sun is at its peak – they’ll cook perfectly. Right, Your Majesty? Your Majesty? STEVE!’

  ‘Hmm?’ said the King, who had fallen asleep a little bit.

  ‘Make those cupcakes!’

  ‘It’s nap time!’

  Anna grabbed a passing rattlesnake by the bell and dangled it above the King’s head. ‘Make those cupcakes,’ she growled.

  ‘OK, OK!’

  The King gathered the flour, eggs, milk, honey and other ingredients, and began to bake.

  ‘Aaaaand they’re STARTING!’ yelled Charlus.

  ‘Of course,’ Molly commented, a little red, ‘our dashing Emperor gathered all the ingredients in no time. Look how strongly he’s mixing them together! You can see all his arm muscles bul–’

  ‘But what’s King Steve doing now?’ interrupted Charlus. ‘Oh, he’s using red ant extract – daring choice, ladies and gentlemen, daring choice!’

  ‘Red ant extract?’ the King grumbled. ‘I thought it was strawberry syrup!’

  (Anna discreetly spat out the spoonful of red liquid she’d stolen from the table.)

  ‘He’s sprinkling beetle powder on top of his icing …’

  ‘Am I? Looked like cocoa to me!’

  ‘Deary me!’ Molly whistled. ‘Britland’s got a reputation for bland food, but what explosive baking! Anaconda fangs on top of cupcakes!’

  ‘Aren’t they blanched almonds?’ King Steve wondered.

  ‘And the sun’s beginning to set …’ said Charlus. ‘Will the cupcakes cook before it’s too late?’

  ‘Get them into the oven quick, Your Majesty!’ Anna cried. ‘I didn’t almost die for nothing, you know.’

  King Steve opened the oven, which was made out of stones, using his own beard as oven gloves. Next to him, Emperor Sam chuckled: he’d already put his cupcakes in the oven, his hands safely tucked in fireproof, designer salamander-skin oven gloves.

  ‘Aaaaaand Britland’s cupcakes are
IN THE OVEN!’ Charlus yelled.

  ‘Oh, fiddlesticks, one contestant’s cupcakes aren’t ready,’ said Molly. ‘What happened to the sweet Emir of Antarktik?’

  ‘One of my assistants melted,’ the Emir explained, shooting dark glances at Holly.

  ‘Do you mean you have no cupcakes, Your Emirship?’ Charlus asked.

  ‘Well, they’re not quite as polished as the other teams’,’ he replied, producing a single, sad-looking cake.

  ‘We used my former assistant’s nose,’ the Emir went on, looking down at the carrot sticking out of the top, and the polar bear wiped a tear.

  The cupcakes cooked in the orange setting sun. Then the teams presented the results of their baking.

  ‘And who will have the delightful task of tasting those luscious-looking cupcakes?’ Molly mused, poking Charlus in the ribs.

  Charlus stared at his co-host. ‘You first, Molly.’

  ‘Oh, come on, you cheeky boy,’ said Molly. ‘You know you want to.’

  ‘How fabtastic,’ Charlus stammered. ‘Can’t absolutely not wait! Joy and deliciousness. Yummy, yummy.’

  He swallowed the Americanadian cupcakes effortlessly, but only took a tiny bite of the others. ‘Wanna try, Molly?’

  ‘I’m on a diet,’ the old lady smiled.

  After a few interesting faces, he finally declared:

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I think I speak for everyone with a crush on cupcakes when I say that EMPEROR SAM is the winner!’

  ‘Me?’ Emperor Sam exclaimed, trying to look surprised. ‘I don’t know what to say, it’s such an honour!’

  He jumped on the hovercraft and kissed the hosts’ cheeks, making Molly stumble dangerously.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ said Charlus, ‘the contestant who’s going to leave us today is …’

  Silence.

  Silence.

  Silence.