A Sweet Magic: Part Two

Chapter Thirty-Six: Blackbird Pie

As soon as Cathy signed Prince Horace's contract, he'd locked the children inside the castle's kitchen. Cathy's heart sank. This had an odd familiarity to it.

Suspended in the kitchen's corner, trapped in a boy-sized cage, Jake rattled the door. "Get me out! It won't open! Find the key!"

Cathy searched every drawer. "There isn't one, but I've found this." Cathy waved a metal spatula in the air.

"What good is that?" Jake kicked the cage hard enough to make it swing.

"I'll prise the door open." Cathy slid the spatula into the crack around the door and, with all her strength, she tried to force it. But as she pushed, the metal spatula bent... until it snapped. This was no good. She'd need something stronger. "I'll look for something else." Cathy opened cupboard doors and rummaged through the fine bone china.

Jake sat hugging his knees while she pulled cutlery from drawers. "Cathy, you should be quiet. That nasty witch will hear you." He'd just finished his sentence when the door to the kitchen swung open and two scaly imps dressed in chef's whites entered. Balanced above their pointed ears were tall white hats.

Cathy slammed the cupboard door shut and tucked her hands behind her back.

"Hello, children," said the larger of the two imps. "My name is Godfrey, and this is Fred." He pointed a clawed finger at the imp to his left. Turning to Cathy, he continued, "Prince Horace has set you your first task."

Fred grinned from ear to ear as he unwound the scroll he clutched, and clearing his throat, he read aloud,

Dearest Cathy,

It has come to mummy's attention how terribly scrawny Jake is. Your first task is to bake a pie for the boy. My talented chefs will show you how.

Enjoy!

Prince Horace

"I'm not scrawny!" Jake said, flexing his chest and arms. "Plenty of muscle on me!"

Godfrey glared at Jake. "Quiet, boy!"

"Cathy..." Fred crept closer to her. "Do you enjoy cooking?"

"No," she answered, stepping back.

"That's a pity." The imp's amber eyes twinkled with mischief.

In a flash, the scroll vanished and Cathy, Fred, and Godfrey stood around a large wooden table in the centre of the kitchen. In front of her was a lump of raw pastry.

"Put your pinny on, Cathy." Godfrey pointed to the floral apron on the table beside her. "Hygiene comes first," he added, picking his nose and wiping snot onto his jacket.

"How disgusting," Cathy muttered as she tied the straps of her apron.

"What did you say?" Godfrey cupped his ear with his hand and waited.

"I said, how right you are."

"That's what I thought you said." He lowered his hand and explained, "Today we are cooking for a boy who is all skin, gristle, and bone. So I don't have to emphasise how important it is to cook a delicious meal. The menu is... drum roll, Fred..."

Fred drummed his long claws on the table... Cathy watched in stunned silence.

"Blackbird Pie with deep-fried crispy worms, followed by cockroach profiteroles for dessert," Godfrey announced with pride.

"Ooohh, very nice." Fred licked his lips.

Cathy felt sick, and Jake gasped in horror.

On the table, three rolling pins appeared, and like a professional, Godfrey rolled out his pastry. Fred hummed as he did the same, and reluctantly Cathy copied the imps.

"Once you've rolled out your pastry and placed it in your pie dishes, you'll need to prepare the pies' contents." Godfrey grinned. "Here birdy, birdy... what a delicious-looking birdy you are." Godfrey lifted a birdcage, with three plump blackbirds in it, from under the table and plonked it next to his freshly prepared pie dish.

"You can't be serious!" Cathy said. Surely, they weren't really going to bake live blackbirds.

"You don't like Blackbird Pie?" Fred asked, bewildered by Cathy's lack of enthusiasm.

"No, I don't like Blackbird Pie. That's nasty."

"Ahhh... she's a herbivore," said Godfrey, screwing up his face in disgust.

"She's a what?" Fred lifted his lip in a snarl.

"Herbivore," Godfrey repeated.

"Never heard of it... Is it contagious?" Fred stepped further away from Cathy.

"No, fool! It means she doesn't eat meat."

"You jest, Godfrey." Fred shook his head. "If she doesn't eat meat, what does she eat?"

"Vegetables, Fred."

"How appalling!" Fred scowled at Cathy. "On that basis, I consider you food for imps."

Cathy's tummy flipped with fear. She had to think fast if she didn't want to be eaten. "I taste like broccoli... and... and... brussel sprouts," she yelled, hoping they didn't like either vegetable.

Fred licked his lips. "I like brussel sprouts."

To Cathy's left, a heavy frying pan sat on a shelf. Before the imps could stop her, she lunged for the pan and began swinging.

"Whoa there, put the pan down!" Fred yelled.

"Go away or I'll batter you!" Cathy swung wildly.

"Hear that, Godfrey... She'll batter us!"

"She'll have to catch us first," Godfrey yelled, and vanished in a puff of smoke.

"See you soon, Cathy." Fred smiled as he, too, vanished.

Lowering the frying pan, Cathy dropped to her knees. Her heart raced and tears stung her eyes.

"Are you ok?" Jake asked. The cage rattled as he clutched the bars.

"No," Cathy sobbed. "I'm not ok."