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Grimaldi squealed. ‘I think something flew into my mouth!’

      ‘There’s nothing to fear, Grimaldi!’ the king reassured him. ‘Look, the Creatures of the Light are just getting on with their lives.’ He pointed at a small bunny rabbit nibbling on some grass.

      ‘I dunno,’ Grimaldi mumbled, ‘maybe it’s plotting something terrible as we speak . . .’

      ‘Oh, you are silly!’ Amelia giggled.

      ‘Look, Dad!’ Tangine yelled. ‘I’m flying!’ Tangine was hovering a few feet above the grass, his sparkly fairy wings flapping fiercely.

      ‘You look just like your mother!’ King

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      Vladimir said, smiling.

      ‘THIS PLACE ISN’T SO BAD,’ said Florence, performing one last pirouette.

      ‘Right,’ said the king, ‘let’s check the map and work out our best route.’

      Florence took the unicorn horn off her head and removed the map, which was neatly rolled into a cone.

      ‘Where do we start?’ said Grimaldi as Florence straightened the map out. ‘We have no idea where Glitteropolis city is – it’s not on the map.’

      ‘Hey look, there’s the Wishing Well of Well Wishes,’ said Amelia, reading the map. ‘Maybe we could make a wish to find out where Glitteropolis is?’

      ‘Amelia, that is

      a great idea. I’d never thought of that before!’ The king beamed. Then he looked at Tangine fondly. ‘The Wishing Well of Well Wishes is where your mum and I got married.’

      The friends waded through the Meadow of Loveliness, stopping every so often for King Vladimir to catch his breath.

      ‘At least I’ll be fitter by the time we find Fairyweather,’ he puffed.

      ‘That must be the Wishing Well of Well Wishes!’ said Grimaldi, pointing ahead at a stone well. It appeared to be glowing, and sparkly flecks of light danced around its rim.

      Florence peered into the well and shouted, ‘’OW DO YOU MAKE A WISH THEN?’

      THEN. . . THEN. . . THEN. . .

      Her voice echoed.

      ‘NO NEED TO SHOUT!’ a voice boomed up from within the well.

      SPLOSH!

      A huge jet of water followed, drenching Florence from head to toe.

      ‘IT SPLOSHED ME!’ said Florence in shock. ‘AND IT SPOKE.’

      ‘I’ll do it again if you don’t stop referring to me as IT, you big oaf,’ said the voice from the well.

      There was no doubt about it: the

      Wishing Well of Well Wishes could talk.

      And it was really rather rude.

      ‘So, what brings you Creatures of the Dark to the Kingdom of the Light?’ asked the well.

      Everyone looked at each other in surprise. How could it have seen through their disguises?

      ‘W-w-we’re not Creatures of the Dark!’ said Grimaldi quickly. ‘Look! Meeeow!’ And he swung his angel-kitten tail around.

      ‘Do you think I’m completely blind, little grim reaper?’ said the well.

      ‘COURSE YOU ARE,’ Florence cut in, ‘’CAUSE YOU ’AVE NO EYES.’

      SPLOSH!

      Tangine stifled a giggle as Florence received another face full of water.

      ‘All right, Vlad?’ said the well. ‘Or should I say, Sir Ladybird?’

      ‘I see you haven’t changed,’ said the king

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      raising an eyebrow.

      ‘And I see your son is growing up to look just like his mother,’ said the well. ‘Got your nose, though . . . Shame.’

      ‘How do you know so much about us?’ asked Tangine. ‘You’re just a wishing well.’

      ‘I am the Wishing Well of Well Wishes! I know everything there is to know and everything that will be known.’

      ‘I KNOW YOU’RE PRETTY RUDE,’ said Florence.

      ‘Don’t take it personally,’ whispered the king. ‘Wells are notorious for being a little uncouth at times.’

      ‘If you know everything, then can you tell us where Glitteropolis is?’ said Amelia.

      ‘Maybe,’ said the well.

      ‘You just told us you know everything,’ said Amelia.

      ‘I do,’ said the well.

      ‘Then surely you know where the city of Glitteropolis is?’ said Amelia, becoming impatient.

      ‘Yes,’ said the well. ‘Then can’t you tell us?’ ‘I can’t,’ said the well.

      ‘Why not?’ Grimaldi cried.

      ‘I don’t just give out information. I’m not allowed to. So, the secret of who you are is safe with me. Unless someone wishes to know your secret, that is . . .’ The well coughed. ‘But anyway, if you want information, you must wish for it,’ said the well.

      ‘I WISH YOU’D JUST STOP TALKING!’ Florence blurted out, clenching her fists.

      ‘No, Flo—’ the king began. But the well bubbled and a small envelope

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      came hurtling through the air landing at Florence’s feet. She picked up the envelope and opened it.

      PFFFFFFFFFFFTTT!

      ‘AAAARGH!’ Florence bellowed as the envelope exploded into a cloud of glitter. The glitter-cloud then rearranged itself to spell out:

      THANK YOU FOR YOUR FIRST WISH. WE HOPE IT WAS FULFILLED TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS.

      Then the glitter words disappeared.

      ‘WHAT? I DIDN’T MAKE A WISH!’ yelled Florence.

      But the well was silent. It made no sound, not even a bubble.

      CHAPTER 3

      PUMPKIN POO

      Amelia put her head in her hands. ‘I think you did make a wish, Florence. You wished the well would stop talking.’

      ‘THAT WASN’T A PROPER WISH!’ said Florence.

      ‘You have to be extra careful with what you say,’ explained the king.

      The well was still silent.

      ‘I

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