Hercufleas by Sam Gayton

went dark with rage. ‘He tried to have me killed.’
    â€˜Maybe he made a mistake, maybe it was an administrative error…’ Hercufleas trailed off. He knew Greta was right. Stickler was just as villainous as Prince Xin and Ugor. He only cared about his business, his reputation and his gold. Greta knew his dark secret, and if they returned to Avalon, Stickler would try to get rid of her. And maybe Hercufleas too.
    â€˜This isn’t about Stickler any more,’ Greta said, pulling him from his thoughts. ‘This is about Tumber.’ She pointed up at the last sliver of moon. ‘Tomorrow, when the moon is new, Yuk will come to guzzle everyone I’ve ever known. Won’t you help?’
    Hercufleas hopped back and forth across her palm, trying to make the right choice. He could return to Avalon and bring Stickler to justice, or go to Tumber and rescue the people there from Yuk.
    â€˜I’ll come with you, Greta,’ he said at last. ‘But first I have to go back to Happily Ever Afters.’
    She stared at him. ‘But—’
    â€˜I have to warn my fleamily,’ said Hercufleas firmly. ‘They might be in danger. What if Stickler tries to hurt them too?’
    â€˜But—’
    â€˜I’m small. I can sneak back to Avalon without being spotted. I’ll go straight to the owners of BestQuest, or Heroes for Hire, and tell them the truth.
    â€˜But—’
    â€˜Stop saying “but”! I have to do this. I don’t have a choice.’
    Greta scowled. ‘Neither do I.’
    Her hand closed into a fist, squeezing him like the coils of a python.
    â€˜Greta! What are you doing? Let me go!’
    He bit and kicked and tried to jump, but she only tightened her grip.
    â€˜Ride, Artifax!’ she called, leaping onto the bird’s back. They hurtled forward into the trees and entered the land of Petrossia.

15
    O n they rode through the forest. It was just like an adventure in an Avalonian fairy tale: a brave hero, a noble steed, a fair maiden. Except the brave hero was the size of a raisin, the fair maiden was a scowling kidnapper and the noble steed was some sort of gigantic albino chicken.
    It was not an adventure Hercufleas wanted to be a part of.
    He had fought in Greta’s grip, biting and struggling and yelling until he was exhausted. Eventually his rage cooled to a dull anger and his anger froze into icy terror. There was nothing he could do. Greta was taking him off to fight a giant that had crushed Avalon’s strongest hero into little pieces.
    What terrified Hercufleas even more than Yuk was what might be happening to his fleamily right now. They had no idea that their host was a greedy attempted-murderer who hired out villains as well as heroes.
    He imagined Stickler taking his hat from his head and shaking it up and down on the porch, yelling, ‘I told you to keep your little hatchling under control! I gave you a formal warning!’ He imagined Min, Pin and the others huddling together in the mist, shivering, hungry, homeless. He imagined Stickler deciding the fleamily needed to be silenced to protect his reputation…
    He had to make Greta let him go. Whatever it took.
    He started off with lies.
    â€˜Greta, I think I’ve sprained my ankle.’
    â€˜Greta, I’ve just remembered – I left my sword back in Avalon!’
    â€˜Greta, I’m allergic to giants. They give me a rash.’
    When lies didn’t work, he tried threats.
    â€˜Greta, you have until the count of three to let me out, otherwise I’ll bite you, suck out all your blood and leave you here like a shrivelled-up prune! One… Two… Two and a half… Two and almost very nearly three…’
    He tried curses. (‘I hope Yuk eats you right after he eats me!’) He tried begging. (‘Please, please, please, please,
please
let me go.’) Nothing worked.
    After hours of stumbling between trees, Hercufleas