The Royal Bake Off Page 4

  ‘Oh,’ said the Empress, ‘we became quite good friends. We’re taking them back to Downunder.’

  She said good bye, and so did her crocodile friend who had appeared next to her.

  ‘Right,’ Anna said. ‘The Über-Sheriff of Germanisland wants to kill us. I bet he’s going to try again tomorrow – and we must make sure that this time, he doesn’t get away with it.’

  ‘I’ll tail him,’ said Pepino. ‘You girls can look for the dangerous things. I mean, the ingredients. And I will laze around behind the Über-Sheriff. I mean, do some high-danger tailing.’

  Anna looked at Pepino suspiciously. ‘Come on, Anna,’ said Holly. ‘Let Pepino do it. After all, he’s very good at lazing around.’

  ‘OK,’ said Anna. ‘But don’t let them get away, Pepino, all right? We must make sure that –’

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  More noises from the ceiling.

  ‘Is that you, Empress?’ Holly called.

  ‘Or crocodile?’ Pepino added.

  No reply. Anna pushed the grid that covered the air vent and looked inside.

  ‘It’s the Easter Princess,’ she murmured, ‘and her three assistants.’

  ‘What are they doing in the ceiling at this time of the night?’ Holly asked.

  ‘I don’t know. Let’s follow them.’

  ‘Oh no,’ sighed Pepino, but the girls had already dragged him into the ventilation shaft.

  They followed the Easter Princess and her assistants, crawling down the narrow passage. Suddenly the Princess and her assistants disappeared, and it wasn’t long before Holly, Anna and Pepino understood why … as the floor suddenly dropped away, sending them whooshing down a long, swirling slide.

  ‘That was fun!’ Pepino whispered, picking himself up at the bottom. ‘Where are we?’

  They had slid all the way down the skyscraper and landed near the entrance. All around them, Bigapplers were cruising down fast conveyor belts. The street beyond was full of whinnying Pony Cars, including bright yellow ones with ‘TAXI’ signs on their heads.

  ‘Should we follow her?’ Holly murmured, watching the Easter Princess and her assistants step on to one of the conveyor belts. ‘What if it’s a trap and she wants to kill us?’

  ‘Not everyone wants to kill us,’ replied Anna. ‘Only one royal in five.’

  So they jumped on to the conveyor belt and stayed on until the Princess got off a couple of blocks away, near the harbour.

  There, by the bay, they were as close as they’d ever been to the Apple of Liberty, round and shiny on its little island. Anna, Holly and Pepino hung back and waited to see what the Easter Islanders would do next.

  ‘Too far again,’ said one of the wooden figures.

  ‘Try,’ said the Easter Princess.

  The assistants got out the metal Easter egg and set it up on the pier as they had before. The red laser dot appeared bang in the middle of the Apple. A few seconds later, PSHAK! The egg sprung off and …

  PLINK! The tiniest noise, in the distance, of metal against metal.

  ‘We did it,’ said one of the assistants. ‘It’s in there.’

  ‘Very good,’ said the Princess. ‘It will take a night and a day and a night to hatch.’

  ‘A night and a day and a night,’ they all repeated seriously.

  ‘The day after tomorrow,’ the Princess whispered, ‘we will come back.’

  The assistants nodded, and the strange team glided off.

  ‘Well,’ Anna said, ‘I’m really starting to doubt that this bunch came here just for the Royal Bake Off.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Now, this is cool,’ said Anna.

  ‘Very, very cool,’ said Pepino.

  ‘We’re going to have to go into that?’ Holly was worried.

  ‘That’ was a ...

  ‘Royal contestants!’ Charlus exclaimed, hovering above the four teams. ‘You have all shown that you can bake amazingly – even in the most bizarre situations. But you haven’t yet shown that you can bake in the most bizarre positions. And where better to do that than in a kitchen with zero gravity?’

  ‘Oh, hurrah!’ Pepino marvelled. ‘I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut!’

  A door on the side of the rocket opened, and a long ladder unfolded. One by one, the royal contestants and their assistants climbed up.

  The inside of the rocket had four fully equipped kitchen tops and ovens attached to the curving walls.

  ‘Fasten your seat belts for take-off! In space, even the fattest of you will float around like a little linnet!’ Molly piped, looking pointedly at King Steve. ‘Grab on tight to those spatulas and whisks! You’ll have to bake … a solar system!’

  ‘A solar system?’ Anna repeated. ‘How?’

  ‘However you like! A miniature solar system, with planets and satellites made of any type of cake. The most gorgeous and the tastiest will win!’

  ‘And anyone who accidentally bakes a black hole will be sucked into it!’ Charlus roared. ‘Ready? Three! Two! One! BAKE OFF TAKE-OFF!’

  The rocket made the most deafening noise as it wrenched itself from the ground.

  As soon as they reached outer space, the belts unfastened, and they were all floating around the rocket and so were the baking utensils!

  ‘Keep an eye on the Easter Princess,’ said Anna to Holly. ‘And you, Pepino, make sure the Über-Sheriff doesn’t kill us. I’ll go help the King.’

  ‘I don’t need help!’ King Steve mumbled. ‘I’m checking that the food is good quality!’

  ‘No, Your Majesty, you’re just flying around gobbling up chocolate chips,’ said Anna. ‘Let’s work on that solar system.’

  Behind them, Sam’s assistants were already drawing elaborate maps on paper while the Emperor himself combed his hair, looking at his reflection in a Filmcrew. Holly pretended to catch some flying pralines, but she was keeping a close eye on the Easter Princess, who didn’t seem too concerned with making her own solar system.

  Pepino, meanwhile, was fluttering about like a sparrow near the Über-Sheriff and his assistant. His assistant was pirouetting in the air. ‘I feel like I’m eighty again!’

  ‘You mean eighteen,’ said Pepino.

  ‘No, no, eighty,’ said the assistant. ‘I was young and sprightly at that age.’

  ‘Why,’ said Pepino, ‘how old can you possibly be now?’

  The Über-Sheriff coughed. ‘Solar system!’ he roared. ‘No time for chit-chat.’

  ‘Of course, sweet wienerbrød,’ said the assistant.

  And they shooed Pepino away.

  ‘How’s it going, Peps?’ asked Anna, who was putting into orbit a flurry of hundreds and thousands around a big caramel and chocolate planet. ‘Have they tried to kill us yet?’

  ‘No. They’re too busy making their solar system. It’s weird, though, Anna – they lose their Germanislander accent when they focus on work. It reminds me a bit of –’

  They were interrupted by Charlus bouncing off from one wall of the rocket to their side. ‘Royals might not be rocket scientists, but they’re ace at cakes in space! Look at Emperor Sam’s moon! Don’t you just want to take a bite of it right now?’

  ‘Chocolate and white truffle rolled in saffron and icing sugar,’ yawned the Emperor. ‘Easy little recipe I learnt during my Intensive Cocoa Course in Belgick.’ And he flicked the moon into orbit around the Earth he’d already made, with blueberry jelly for the oceans and perfectly chiselled mint fondant for the continents.

  And ‘what’s the Easter Princess doing?’ Charlus asked. ‘Her assistants have made a … erm … I guess this sort of qualifies as a solar system … after an alien monster invasion!’

  The Easter team’s solar system was indeed rather pitiful-looking: crumbs of mashed-up cookies and broken chocolate chips flying around an overcooked mince pie.

  ‘The task is almost over, royal contestants, and we’ll be judging it here and –’

  BOOM!

  The rocket shook.

  �
�What was that?’ asked Anna.

  Anna, Pepino and Holly turned around – and saw on the wall of the rocket, almost right behind them, three charred dents.

  ‘Oh, silly Über-Sheriff of Germanisland!’ Molly giggled. ‘He’s had a little accident!’

  ‘I am so sorry,’ said the Über-Sheriff sourly. ‘I set fire to some raisins to try to make them into comets.’

  ‘And shot them at us?’ Anna growled. ‘That’s enough! Charlus, Molly, this man has tried to get us in every single task!’

  Mayhem ensued.

  The Über-Sheriff of Germanisland, losing all composure, fired another salvo of burning raisins at Holly, Anna and Pepino, which they barely dodged.

  ‘Now look here,’ said King Steve, ‘this isn’t very fair play.’

  ‘Throw them your sun, Dad!’ Pepino screamed.

  Steve hurled his orange sun at the Über-Sheriff, who retaliated with a shower of praline meteorites.

  ‘Take that, Britland!’ the Über-Sheriff shouted, throwing them his Venus, which he’d made out of a jawbreaker.

  ‘CAKE OR –’ Charlus began to shout, but Molly stuffed his mouth with the Easter Princess’s mince pie.

  ‘Take Uranus!’ Anna shouted back, hurling their giant round chiffon cake at the Über-Sheriff.

  Uranus was big enough to knock the Über-Sheriff’s hat off, and it hung pitifully around his neck, tied with an elastic band.

  ‘Mummy!’ the Über-Sheriff moaned. ‘They knocked my hat off!’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Holly. ‘How come you haven’t had your Germanislander accent during the fight?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been telling you,’ said Pepino.

  ‘Wait another minute!’ Anna yelled. ‘I recognise this balding scalp!’

  ‘Balding is a strong word,’ the Über-Sheriff said. ‘I lose a hair or two once in a while …’

  ‘ALASPOORYORICK!’ Anna screamed. ‘This is King Alaspooryorick of Daneland, not the Über-Sheriff of Germanisland. He’s the bloodthirsty killer who tried to invade Britland last week!’

  ‘Oh, that is too unfair!’ screamed the fake Über-Sheriff. ‘My costume was so good!’

  ‘And you’d worked hard on that accent,’ said his assistant, taking off her hat, wig and cape.

  It was Alaspooryorick’s mum in an old-fashioned lacy dress.

  ‘Incwadible!’ Charlus yelled, munching through the mince pie. ‘The woyal conteshtant was an IMPOSHTOR, only here to kill the Bwitland team!’

  ‘Only the children,’ Alaspooryorick rectified. ‘They wrapped me in a snotty handkerchief!’

  ‘Emperor Sam,’ Anna implored, ‘do something!’

  Emperor Sam had been paying very little attention to the fight, so busy had he been making sure that his aniseed and gooseberry Pluto was put into orbit at just the right speed. He said lazily, ‘Assistants – catch Alaspooryorick.’

  ‘Yes, Emperor!’ his assistants roared, and they immediately fired some quickly solidifying caramel at Alaspooryorick and his mum.

  ‘The criminals are cloaked in caramel like caterpillars in a cocoon!’ Charlus declared. ‘Another military victory for Americanada!’

  ‘And more importantly,’ Molly marvelled, ‘our Imperial baker has made the most scrumptious solar system in the solar system!’

  ‘We’d need to taste it to make sure of that,’ Pepino stated.

  And without waiting for anyone to ask, Pepino, Holly, Anna, King Steve and Molly flapped their arms and their legs to be the first to munch on the quadruple-crusted Earth (pistachio, white chocolate, nougatine and almond butter, with a marble of orange fudge in the middle), on the tiny sea salt and caramel meteorites, and on the gigantic strawberry jelly sun, warmed to just the right temperature.

  Molly wiped her mouth after hoovering up the hazelnut-spread rings of Saturn. ‘I declare Emperor Sam the winner!’

  The Filmcrew on board clapped loudly, and Emperor Sam said, ‘Oh please, don’t, it’s embarrassing,’ twirling around like a ballerina.

  ‘The not-Über-Sheriff-after-all is to be disqualified for cheating and trying to kill other contestants!’ Charlus yelled.

  And, ‘above all, for using raisins instead of chocolate chips for his cookie-flying-saucers,’ added Molly. ‘No one prefers raisins to chocolate chips in cookies. Say you’re sorry!’

  Alaspooryorick apologised, looking straight at a floating Filmcrew with a sheepish expression on his face, as the rocket made its way back to Earth:

  ‘I’m sorry, Americanada, that I tried to kill the pesky Britlander kids. And I’m sorry that I used raisins for my cookies. I should never, ever, ever have used raisins.’

  Chapter Ten

  The final task was taking place in the giant studio in Bigapple itself – but the next day, the Easter Princess didn’t turn up.

  ‘Well, well, well!’ Charlus said, tapping his watch. ‘Looks like our Princess got cold feet! Maybe she was afraid of competing against the two brothers!’

  ‘Or maybe,’ mumbled Holly to Anna and Pepino, ‘she’s busy doing something else.’

  Charlus and Molly waited for a flock of Filmcrews to gather around the two royal contestants and their assistants.

  ‘Regardless,’ said Molly, ‘the final will take place! And no help today from your young assistants. Today, only the royal contestants will be baking.’

  ‘Oh, shucks,’ said King Steve. ‘Does that mean I have to look for ingredients in monsters’ lairs?’

  ‘It would give us a break,’ Anna sighed.

  ‘No monsters today!’ Charlus yelled. ‘All the ingredients are here for you on this table.’

  ‘It looks like a perfectly ordinary pile of ingredients,’ remarked Anna.

  ‘Your mission today,’ Molly said to the two brothers, ‘is to cook Americanada’s national dish: an apple pie!’

  There was an incredulous silence.

  ‘An apple pie?’ Anna repeated. ‘That’s the final?’

  ‘Yup,’ said Charlus.

  ‘After fighting crocodiles and being stung by scorpions?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Molly.

  ‘After being asked to bake in space?’

  ‘Yep!’ Charlus chanted. ‘If anything, it’s even more difficult than all that. It’s so simple that it’s difficult.’

  King Steve scratched his chin. Sam had already picked up the apple peeler, and was sharpening it on a big diamond that adorned his crown.

  ‘That’s great, Daddy,’ said Prince Pepino. ‘You’ll bake the best-ever apple pie. Remember that crab-apple crumble competition!’

  ‘You have three hours,’ said Molly. ‘And you will be judged by the strictest judges in the country – volunteers from each of our beautiful states!’

  ‘Ready?’ shouted Charlus. ‘CAKE OR DEATH!’

  ‘Death?’ Holly repeated. ‘What can possibly cause anyone’s death in this task?’

  ‘Well, not much,’ Charlus confessed, ‘but it’s a nice jingle.’

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Anna told Holly and Pepino. ‘We have to find out what the Easter Princess and her assistants are up to.’

  The three children ran out of the studio. In the streets of the city, excitement was mounting. Giant screens were broadcasting the final, and Americanadians were holding flags and pictures of Emperor Sam. A couple of Britlander tourists were cheering for King Steve.

  Holly, Anna and Pepino jumped on a conveyor belt that took them to the harbour.

  It looked like nothing had happened to the Apple of Liberty. It was wrapped in layers of silvery fog, rising from the dark blue sea which circled the island.

  Anna found a dime on the ground and dropped it into a small pair of binoculars nailed to a post in the harbour.

  Then she oriented the binoculars towards the Apple of Liberty. And what she saw made her spine cold and tingly.

  In the side of the magnificent apple was a large hole. Anna looked around for the Princess and caught sight of a boat heading swiftly towards the island.


  ‘The Princess is just getting to the island,’ Anna declared. ‘Quick – a boat! We need to stop her!’

  ‘We what?’ Holly jumped. ‘No, we need to call the Emperor!’

  ‘The Emperor is much too busy baking his apple pie. And the rest of the country is too busy watching him! Let’s go!’

  Anna jumped into a small motor boat which was moored to the pier, but its energy-drink tank was empty. But suddenly they spotted in the water …

  ‘There! A flock of turtles!’ Holly shouted.

  They each picked a turtle, leapt on and were gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  As they drew nearer to the gigantic apple, they heard a sinister sound.

  GRRRRRRRRR! GRRRRRRRRRRRR!

  ‘Whatever hatched from that egg is digging into the Apple,’ said Anna.

  ‘I thought Dad said it was solid bronze?’

  ‘That thing must be strong enough to drill through bronze …’

  And suddenly that thing surfaced through the hole.

  ‘Look! It’s some sort of worm! It must have been in the egg,’ exclaimed Anna, ‘and hatched when the egg was shot into the Apple …’

  ‘But why is it drilling in there?’ Holly asked.

  Holly turned towards the city. On a giant screen, she could just make out Emperor Sam’s dashing smile; he was cutting apples into quarters for the pie.

  ‘They’re not going to finish any time soon. Where’s the army?’

  ‘Usually with my aunt, the Empress,’ said Pepino, ‘on top-secret military missions. Shall I phone her?’

  Pepino squeezed out a phone from his pocket.

  ‘Wow,’ said Holly, ‘it’s not exactly the latest model.’

  ‘My parents are cheapskates,’ Pepino said sadly. He dialled his aunt’s number.

  ‘Auntie?’ said Pepino. ‘It’s Pepino. How’s everything?’