Amelia Fang and the Barbaric Ball Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Laura Ellen Anderson

  Cover and interior art copyright © 2019 by Laura Ellen Anderson

  Lettering by Sarah J. Coleman

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. Originally published in paperback in the United Kingdom by Egmont UK Ltd. in 2017.

  Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

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  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  Trade Paperback ISBN 9781984848390

  Ebook ISBN 9781984848406

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v5.4

  a

  For Helen

  Thank you for believing in Amelia and supplying me with unicorn-shaped inspiration and surprise loose limbs! Your continued support, encouragement and enthusiasm won’t be forgotten.

  And a special THANKS to all the FANG-GIRLS. You know who you are!

  x Yeti hugs x

  Contents

  Cover

  Also by Laura Ellen Anderson

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map of Nocturnia

  Meet the Nocturnians

  1. Flabbergasting Fettuccine

  2. Florence and Grimaldi

  3. Tangine

  4. Angel-Kittens of Terror

  5. You AAAAAARE Dead, You are Dead

  6. The Toilet isn’t Shiny Enough

  7. Do Something, Daddy!

  8. I Want That One

  9. The Green Door with the Moldy Handle

  10. Stealthy Florence

  11. Creatures of the Light

  12. Right in the Hair

  13. Intestine!

  14. King Vladimir’s Secret

  15. Friend

  16. The Barbaric Ball

  17. Sigmund

  18. I Am Not a Beast!

  19. Door Chase

  20. Glitteropolis

  About the Author

  It was a dark and gloomy Wednesday night in Nocturnia. Countess Frivoleeta Fang sipped her Scream Tea and tapped the dining-room table with her long black fingernails as the clock struck four a.m.

  “Drake, my darkness, you do know it’s our annual Barbaric Ball in just three nights?” Countess Frivoleeta cooed. “We still have invitations to send, catering to sort out and—oh, did you book the Howling Wolf Band?”

  Count Drake’s eyes widened. “Erm…I’ll phone them tonight, dearest rat brains.”

  “And, Drakey, you’ll need to wear your best suit for the ball. None of Hawaiian graveyard shirts you like so much. We really must find a way to unstick all that goblin slime from last year’s ball too…”

  (Goblins were notorious for leaving slime trails—stickier than the stickiest super glue, they were impossible to remove!)

  “Not another Barbaric Ball,” moaned Amelia Fang, slumping back into her chair. “They’re always full of old monsters wearing too many frills and far too much Eau de Decay.”

  Amelia had just turned ten and would rather hang out with her best friends, Florence and Grimaldi, than go to the ball.

  “Amelia Fang! I won’t have any of that bat-chat from you,” the countess said sternly. “Firstly, Eau de Decay is the finest perfume in all of Nocturnia. It’s made from fermented bat spit with a hint of rotten banana, after all! And secondly, the Barbaric Ball is a family tradition. It’s our chance to show everyone how fang-tastic we are.”

  Amelia knew this already. The Fang family had hosted the Barbaric Ball for generations. It was THE annual event in Nocturnia. Only the most ghoulish and ghastly were invited, and the ball was Countess Frivoleeta’s pride and joy.

  “But I get so bored,” Amelia grumbled. “It would be much better if someone my own age were there!”

  “You know the ball is only for grown-ups,” the countess said.

  “Then surely I don’t have to go?” Amelia said hopefully.

  “Of course you have to go. You must learn the ropes so that you can carry on the Barbaric Ball tradition!” her mother said with a gleeful grin.

  “But what if I don’t want to?” Amelia mumbled. “I want to study pumpkinology when I grow up, and help sick pumpkins.”

  Countess Frivoleeta burst out laughing. “Darkling! Don’t be silly. Oh, you’ll make my eye makeup run!” She checked her face in the mirror behind her, then blew herself a kiss. (You may have heard that vampires don’t have reflections. That is false, and no one loved theirs more than Countess Frivoleeta.) “You’d ruin your delicate vampiress hands with all the digging. Now sit up straight for dinner,” she continued. “Wooo!”

  Amelia sighed as a ghost floated into the room, carrying a tray of something that looked like a pile of big boogies.

  It was useless for Amelia to try to speak to her mother about what she wanted. Being a Fang meant countless vampiress etiquette lessons, cobwebbing practice and never-ending preparations for the Barbaric Ball. Sometimes Amelia wished she belonged to a different family.

  “Your Flabbergasting Fettuccine, Countess,” said Wooo. He was the most respected ghost butler in all of Nocturnia.

  (Contrary to popular belief, vampires don’t actually live on a diet of blood. It gives them very stinky breath!)

  “Thank you, Wooo. That will be all,” the countess said.

  Amelia flapped her wings grumpily and flicked a piece of fettuccine onto the floor. Her pet pumpkin, Squashy, gobbled it up, then bounced onto Amelia’s lap.

  “Hey, Squashy!” Amelia giggled. “Have some more fettuccine! I know it’s your favorite.”

  Squashy wiggled his stem from side to side in agreement.

  “Maybe the king will come to the ball this year?” Amelia said through a mouthful of sour spinach.

  “Not likely,” Countess Frivoleeta said. “He hasn’t stepped outside the palace since the fairy incident.” She looked at her husband. “Drakey, my awful little germinoid, you should really make more of an effort to see King Vladimir. You two used to be such good friends.”

  Count Drake gave a long sigh. “Dearest belch-breath, it’s no use. He won’t see or speak to anyone anymore.”

  “Such a shame,” Countess Frivoleeta said. “Ever since he canceled your weekly Eyebowls game, you’ve been completely obsessed with those silly word-crosses….”

  “Crosswords, dear,” Count Drake said.

  “If the king DID accept our invitation to the ball, do you think he would bring his son?” Amelia asked. Her eyes lit up for a moment. “Or is Prince Tangine not allowed to come either, because he’s not old?”

  “Prince Tangine is the future king, for serpent’s sake! He is ALWAYS invited,” the countess sang.

  “But remember, Amelia,” Count Drake added, “the prince’s mother DID get eaten by a fairy. I’d be surprised if the king ev
er lets him outside the palace walls.”

  “Grieving goblins, I’d go mad if I couldn’t go and see my friends,” Amelia said.

  “Enough chitchat. Now, Amelia, eat up before your fettuccine gets cold, then off to bed,” Countess Frivoleeta said, prodding at her daughter’s cheeks. “We must keep your skin looking pale and deathlike!”

  “But, Mooom, it’s the final of The Great Gothic Gravestone Carve-Off tonight! Can’t I stay up for just a bit longer?” Amelia said.

  Suddenly, a huge BOOOOOOONG! echoed through the house.

  “Drake, my little sweat gland, are we expecting visitors?” Countess Frivoleeta said. “Wooo!” she called without waiting for her husband’s reply. “Please answer that immediately.”

  Moments later, Wooo appeared holding a gold envelope.

  “You have a letter, Countess. It appears to be from the king.”

  “THE KING’S COMING TO THE BALL?” Florence yelled. This was normal speaking volume for Florence, who was six feet tall, huge and hairy from head to toe. Everything about her was BIG. Even her voice was big. But so was her heart. Which was also very hairy. She was Amelia’s best friend.

  Amelia, Squashy and Florence Spudwick were sitting under the Petrified-Tree-That-Looked-Like-a-Unicorn, where they met every night before school.

  “THAT’S SO EXCITING!” roared Florence, gobbling down a bowl of Unlucky Arms cereal.

  “And he’s bringing the prince!” Amelia said excitedly. “I’ll finally have someone my OWN age to hang out with at the ball! Although I still wish you and Grimaldi could come.”

  “S’ALL RIGHT,” said Florence, putting a hairy arm around Amelia’s shoulders. “I’D SHOW EVERYONE UP WITH MY STUNNING LOOKS!” She grinned, revealing a mouthful of spiky teeth pointing in every direction.

  The two friends burst out laughing.

  Squashy bounced up and down, blowing raspberries with his tongue, before nuzzling into Amelia’s tummy for a belly rub.

  “Hi, guuuuys!” came a high voice from across the graveyard. It was Grimaldi Reaperton, Amelia’s other best friend.

  Grimaldi was small and cute, and Death was his middle name. (No, really, it was. He dealt with the deaths of small creatures, like squished toads, but when he was older, he would take over from his grimpapa and deal with bigger, messier beings.)

  “Grimaldi!” Amelia said excitedly. “I have BIG news!”

  “Is it about The Great Gothic Gravestone Carve-Off?” Grimaldi said. “Because I really thought that William W—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t tell me. I haven’t seen the final episode yet…,” said Amelia, covering her ears.

  “So what’s the news?” Grimaldi said.

  “THE KING’S COMING TO THE BALL!” Florence blurted out.

  “Wow! Nobody’s seen him in years,” Grimaldi said. “I was worried he’d died…. Grimpapa keeps checking his diePhone in case he missed him. Happens sometimes.”

  Suddenly, the Catacomb Academy welcome bones rattled, announcing the beginning of school.

  “But that’s not all,” Amelia said quickly. “Prince Tangine is coming too!”

  “Maybe you’ll actually have FUN this year!” Grimaldi smiled.

  “I hope so,” Amelia said. “Do you think Prince Tangine likes playing Goblin Tag?”

  “Amelia!” Miss Inspine shouted. She was the head teacher. “Florence, Grimaldi! Hurry up! You’re going to be late for Abominable Assembly!”

  Amelia and her friends wound their way down to the Catacomb Academy crypt.

  “Whose lap do you want to sit on today, Squashy?” Amelia asked.

  Squashy immediately pa-doinged into Amelia’s arms and started licking her face.

  “I think that’s settled!” she said, laughing.

  In the crypt, the music teacher, Mr. Blob, was playing the “Death March” on the organ. Then he exploded, his way of saying the assembly was about to begin. An eyeball landed in the hood of Grimaldi’s cloak.

  “EVERY time!” Grimaldi grimaced.

  “Okay, class, take your seats, please,” Miss Inspine said. “First, I’d like to make a very special announcement. As you all know, the Barbaric Ball is taking place in a couple of nights. And I’m happy to announce that King Vladimir will be attending with his son, Prince Tangine, after all these years!”

  The students buzzed excitedly.

  “I have ALSO been informed that, as of tonight, Prince Tangine will be joining Catacomb Academy as part of his king training, to get to know the young creatures of Nocturnia!”

  The whole crypt exploded in squeals and burps of delight.

  “Oh, isn’t it just AWFUL that his mother was EATEN by a fairy?” cried Frankie. She had stitches over her face and bolts in her neck.

  “There will be NO mention of the fairy incident,” Miss Inspine hissed. “The prince is probably anxious enough, leaving the palace for the first time in years.”

  “So brave!” said Frankie, fanning herself with her detached ear.

  “The king has requested,” the head teacher continued, “that Amelia Fang show Prince Tangine around the school and look after him while he settles in.”

  “That’s only because the king used to be best buddies with Amelia’s dad!” Frankie spat.

  Amelia muffled a groan. Frankie was the most annoying ghoul in Catacomb Academy.

  “Enough, Frankie!” said Miss Inspine, losing patience. “The prince is due to arrive any minute, and I want you ALL to be on your BEST behavior.”

  “Imagine.” Grimaldi grinned. “The three of us hanging out with the future king! We’ll be the coolest kids in school.”

  “HEY,” Florence said. “WE ALREADY ARE.”

  I wonder what Tangine is like, Amelia thought, when a loud noise caught her attention.

  “You stupid bird! Why can’t you ever land properly?” came a high-pitched voice.

  “Oh! Wait here, everyone….” Miss Inspine said, scampering out of the crypt.

  Seconds later she returned looking flustered.

  “Students! It gives me great pleasure to welcome our special new student to Catacomb Academy…Prince Tangine!”

  A long shadow appeared, stretching the length of the crypt. Amelia watched as the shadow became smaller, and smaller…and smaller…

  Until Prince Tangine stepped into view.

  “HOW WEENY IS HE?” Florence whispered loudly.

  Miss Inspine shot her a sharp look.

  The prince was tiny. Teeny, even. Which was very unusual for a vampire.

  Frankie began applauding frantically. “Tangine rules! Tangine, you’re amazing!” she yelled across the room.

  “JOSEPHINE!” shouted Tangine, clapping his tiny hands twice.

  A Mummy Maid ran in and crouched at Tangine’s feet so he could use her as a platform.

  “Yes, it is I, your future king!” said Prince Tangine, revealing his pearly white fangs. “I suppose I look forward to learning stuff at your little school.”

  Amelia was surprised by Prince Tangine’s tone. He must be nervous, she thought.

  “Anyway,” continued Tangine, yawning. “I’m bored. I demand brunch….” He clapped his hands again and shouted, “FRESCO!”

  Maybe he gets hungry when he’s nervous, Amelia thought.

  Another Mummy Maid rushed into the crypt, holding a tray of Slug-Ends.

  “Ooh, isn’t he delightful?” Frankie oozed as the Mummy Maid crawled back out of the crypt, still carrying Tangine.

  “Well.” Amelia looked at Florence and Grimaldi. “Tangine seems…nice?”

  * * *

  After Abominable Assembly, Amelia waited outside Miss Inspine’s room for Prince Tangine. He was already ten minutes late for class. Maybe he’s lost? she thought.

  Squashy sniffed around inside Amelia’s backpack, looking for so
mething to chew.

  “No, no, Squashy, that’s my homework!” Amelia giggled. “I knew you’d get hungry, so I took some of Dad’s breakfast for you….”

  Amelia pulled out a fistful of Honey-Roasted Maggots, and Squashy gently nibbled them from her hand.

  She was still feeding him and rubbing his pumpkin tummy when a voice echoed down the corridor.

  “Aren’t you going to show me to the classroom?”

  “Oh!” said Amelia, jumping to her feet. Tangine was standing proudly on a Mummy Maid at the end of the corridor. “Hello, Prince Tangine!” She smiled.

  “INGRID. Crawl!” the prince demanded.

  “It’s so good to finally meet you,” said Amelia. “Our fathers used to play Eyebowls together every week, y’know. Maybe we could ask them to teach us?”

  Tangine didn’t answer.

  “And it’s really cool that you’re coming to the Barbaric Ball!” she went on. “I usually hate going on my own. My mom makes me dance with all the posh old toads!”

  Silence.

  “At least I’ll have someone to hang out with this year….”

  “What’s that?” Tangine said suddenly, pointing at Squashy.

  “Oh, this is Squashy, my pet pumpkin,” Amelia said.

  Squashy smiled and squeaked three times.

  “Pets are silly,” said Tangine, rolling his eyes.

  Amelia’s cheeks burned. “Um…,” she started uncomfortably. “Well, should we go to class?”