Page 17 of Dead Serious Halloween Special

Blackbeard laughs loudly. “Enchanted fairy dust. He”—he frowns—“she?”—he shakes his head as if it’s of no consequence—“will sleep for a hundred years.”

“A hundred years?” I yell. “Listen here, you massive bellend. You’d better wake him up pronto, or you’re not going to like the consequences when Chan’s boyfriend catches up with you.”

“Yeah! What he said,” Aidan snaps belligerently, glaring at Blackbeard.

“Oh, he’ll wake up.” Blackbeard chuckles. “All he needs is true love’s kiss.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I hiss.

“Come!” Blackbeard announces. “To the Queen Anne’s Revenge!”

I’m jostled about as the pirate carries me from the room, and I can see Aidan being carried out just behind us.

“Dusty!” I call out, hoping she can hear me. “Find Death!”

“Danny, watch out!”

Sam grabs me and yanks me out of the way as several knights on horseback gallop past, colourful pennons snapping from the tips of their raised lances.

“Christ, that was close.” I breathe heavily and look at the chaos in the street. The bookshop can’t be far, but we keep getting turned around. I don’t know how it’s possible, but Whitechapel seems to be filled to the brim with fairy-tale creatures and characters. At least, that’s what Sam and I think they are; that seems to be the only theme they have in common.

“Oh my god,” Sam whispers.

I turn to look and have to blink several times, sure my eyes are playing tricks. It’s Thor looking buff in his Asgardian armour, Mjölnir in hand. His shoulder-length hair is blown back by the wind.

“Is he... running in slow motion, or is that me?”

“I don’t think it’s you.” I frown in confusion. “There’s something oddly familiar about him.”

“Of course he’s familiar,” Sam replies. “It’s Thor.”

He really does look as if he’s running in slow motion as he tosses his hair.

“Uncle Danny!” Thor calls out.

“It’s Nick.” I blink as he stops in front of us.

“Uncle Danny,” he repeats, then pauses and looks me up and down, from my golden ringlets to the yellow gingham dress. “Did Chan pick your costume?”

“Don’t ask.” I sigh. I’m really never going to be allowed to forget this, I just know it.

Nick watches, a little wild-eyed, as a wolf wearing a grandmother-type nightgown and cap strolls past, hand in hand with a woman in a red cloak. “What the hell is going on?”

“We don’t know. We’re trying to get the bookshop, but we seem to be going in circles.”

“Where’s Uncle Tris?”

“At the bookshop,” I reply worriedly. “Why aren’t you there? I thought you were going to Chan’s party with Aidan?”

“I was running late from my work placement at the hospital,” he says. “What do you mean, you keep going in circles? We’ve been to the bookshop dozens of times.”

“I know, but every time we head in that direction, we find ourselves somewhere else.” I growl in frustration. “I can only assume it has something to do with magic, given that these are all fairy-tale creatures.”

“Fairy tales?” Nick says sharply.

“Yes, why?”

He chews his lip, his brow furrowed in thought. “If it is magic… wow, that sounds really fucking weird to say… if it is magic stopping us from reaching the bookshop, maybe we need magic to take us there.”