CREATED BY aa Ss

— | WRITTEN BY
LUKE PEARSON —— ~ STEPHEN DAVIES”

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Based on the Hildafolk series of graphic novels by Luke Pearson

iLDA
AND THE
WHITE WOFF
Written by Stephen Davies Illustrated by Sapo Lendario

FLYING EYE BOOKS

London | Los Angeles
Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7
Chapter 3

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15
Rain poured. A deer fox snored. A house spirit
gazed at a Dungeon Crops board. In the corner
of the living room, a little girl with blue hair was
gabbling excitedly into a telephone.
“Frida, that sounds amazing... yes, of course
I want to come with you... wouldn’t miss it for
the world!”
Hilda went into the kitchen, where Mum was

busy spooning hot-chocolate powder into mugs.

“Sorry, Mum,” said Hilda. “Slight change of
plan. I need to go and meet Frida.”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

Mum frowned. “I thought we were going to

play our new board game.”
“Sorry,” said Hilda again. “I do want to play
Dungeon Crops soon, but Frida says she needs
help with some homework she’s been given.”
Mum poured hot milk into each of the three
mugs and stirred it briskly. “Frida? Needs your
help? With homework?”
“Don’t sound so surprised!” laughed Hilda,
pouring hot chocolate into a thermos flask and
slipping it into her adventuring satchel. She ran
into the hall and grabbed her scarf and beret from
a peg. “Frida says I can sleep over if I want to.
Is that all right, Mum? Please say yes!” Hilda
scooped up Twig and squashed him against the
side of her face, big-eyed and pouting.
“All right,” said Mum, “but I want you back
here in time for lunch tomorrow, is that clear?”
“Hooray!” Hilda punched the air and twirled
on her toes. “Thanks, Mum, you’re the best! Come
on, Twig! Bye, Tontu! Sorry about Dungeon Crops.
We'll play tomorrow. Bye!”
 CHAPTER ONE

With Twig at her heels, Hilda dashed out of

the flat, down three flights of stairs and out into
the fresh air. She jumped on her bike and rode off,
pedalling hard.
The rain eased off a little as Hilda coasted
through the maze of apartment blocks and out
onto Fredrik Street. As soon as she was on the
main road, she leaned low over the handlebars
and picked up speed. Twig galloped behind, ears
flapping in the wind.
As she sped through the city gate and north
towards the wilderness, Hilda did feel a pang
of conscience for the half-truths she had told
Mum. It was true that Frida had asked for help
with homework, but it was witching homework,
not schoolwork. And it was true that they were
planning a sleepover — just not at Frida’s house.
Frida and David were already waiting for her
on the edge of the Great Forest. Their mission,
Frida explained, was to collect dust from the
ruins of Fort Ahlberg. Ancient castle dust was an
essential ingredient for the invisibility spell that she
was trying to learn.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

The three friends hid their bikes inside giant

roffleworts and set off westwards into the trees.
Frida and David carried huge camping rucksacks
and Hilda wore her smaller adventuring satchel.
They agreed to swap when one of them got tired.
David had camped at Camp Sparrow several
times, but this was his first time camping outside
the city walls.

>.

ced
—
 CHAPTER ONE

“What if we meet a troll after sundown?” he

kept asking.
“Relax,” said Hilda. “We’ll have the castle dust
by then so Frida can just make us all invisible.”
“Exactly,” said Frida, but she sounded more
certain than she looked.
They came to a narrow river where canary
grass waved in the breeze and weeping willows
stooped to brush the babbling water. Hilda took a
long run up, jumped through the air and landed in
a giggling heap on the far side of the river. Frida
followed and then Twig, soaring gracefully like a
champion showjumper.
“Your turn, David!” they called.
David lowered his head and pawed the ground
like a bull preparing to charge, but then he
straightened up again. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t
darecriskuit,”
No amount of encouragement could persuade
David to attempt the jump. In the end, they had to
leap back across the river and search for another
place to cross.
 Half a mile further downstream, a pine tree had
fallen across the river, creating a natural bridge.
“It’s like a balance beam!” cried Frida,
prancing across the tree trunk with her arms out
to her sides.
“You may as well come back now,” muttered
David. “There’s no way I’m walking across
that thing.”
Hilda took David’s heavy rucksack and gave
him her light adventuring satchel, but still he
refused to cross the pine tree bridge. “I’m slowing
you down,” he sighed. “I should just go home and
let you two carry on without me.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Hilda. “I’m sure we can
find an easier crossing point.”
 The walk continued like this all afternoon.

David refused to use the stepping stones because

they looked too slippery. He refused to take a
shortcut through a glade of twisted yew trees
because he imagined there might be a troll rock in
the middle. Later, as the sun sank low in the west
and shadows lengthened, his face turned pale and
he jumped at every sound. Hilda tried to cheer him
up by making up a river-crossing puzzle involving
a troll, a goat and a sack of grain, but this just
scared him even more.
It was dark by the time they arrived at Fort
Ahlberg. They shrugged off their rucksacks and
stood in silence, gazing in awe at the ancient,
jagged ramparts and half-ruined walls.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

While Frida collected dust, Hilda climbed the

castle walls. The great, grey stones were pitted
and scarred, offering plenty of natural hand and
footholds. Hilda climbed quickly, except for one
awkward overhang where she had to take her feet
off the wall and haul herself up by her fingertips.
When she reached the pinnacle of the ruined
turret, she stood up and leaned into the wind, as
high and free as a migrating woff. In front of her,
the dense canopy of iron pine, birch and bludbok
trees stretched away towards the snow-capped
mountains of the north, where a hundred troll fires
crackled and popped.
“Be careful!” yelled David down below.
“T will!” Hilda called back.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she
noticed a pyramid of rectangular boulders poking
up through the canopy about five miles away.
“Hey, guys!” she exclaimed. “You’ll never guess
|?

what I’ve spotted. It’s the Screaming Stones!”

 —o

. oN
Hilda slithered down the castle walls and landed
in a pile of leaves. Frida and David ran and
helped her up.
“T know I’m going to regret asking this
question,” said David, “but what are the
Screaming Stones?”
“Just what they sound like,” said Hilda. “Emil
Gammelplassen mentions them in his new book,
Swamps and Their Unfriendly Occupants. He heard
them himself one night, when he was camping in
the forest. They were shrieking and wailing and
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

screeching like harpies, but by the time he reached

them the following morning, they were silent.”
“T see,” said David, his face pale in the
moonlight. “Can we please go home now?”
“No David,” said Frida. “We’ll camp here and go
home in the morning.”
The children pitched their tent in a circle of
moonlight inside the castle walls and built a fire
nearby. They pronged veggie sausages on sticks and
cooked them over the flames.
“What if the trolls see our fire?” quavered David.
“They’ll think it’s a troll fire,” said Frida. “There
 CHAPTER TWO

are so many troll fires around Trolberg these days,

one more won’t make a difference.”
‘Ten minutes later, they were all cosy inside
the tent with a splendid feast laid out between
them: a dozen piping-hot sausages, two crusty
baguettes, a packet of ginger biscuits, Hilda’s flask
of hot chocolate and a bowl of rowanberries from
a nearby bush. Their long hike had made them
hungry, and they tucked gratefully into their meal.
Frida watched Hilda blow on a sausage to cool
it down for Twig. “You two are so cute,” she said.
“How did you first meet?”
“Tt’s kind of a long story.”
“Perfect,” said Frida. “I like long stories.”
Hilda bit into a ginger biscuit. “It was five
years ago,” she said, speaking with her mouth full,
“and I was out in the wilderness, walking with
my mum. J heard a strange noise coming from a
pile of fallen rocks at the bottom of a slope, so I
scrambled down the bank to investigate, and there
in front of me was this tiny little creature with
a fluffy tail and twig-like antlers. His paw was
trapped between the rocks, poor thing, so I prised
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

them apart to set him free.”

“Wonderful,” said Frida. “And you’ve been
together ever since?”
“No,” said Hilda. “Twig ran off into the bushes
and I didn’t see him again until two years later,
which was the day I fell off a cliff.”
“You fell off a cliff?” David gasped. “What cliff?”
“The one on the north bank of the fjord, where
the razorbeak eagles nest. And before you ask,
I didn’t just fall off a cliff for no reason. I was
distracted by something I saw.”
“What?”
“T’m not even sure how to describe it. It was this
weird, glowing path slanting up into the sky on the
opposite side of the fjord. A flock of little creatures
was parading weightlessly upwards along the path
oflight.
“What kind of creatures?”
“Deer foxes. But at the time I was too far away
to see what they were, so I did what anybody would
have done. I stepped forward to get a better view.”
“And fell off the cliff,” said David.
“Yes.” Hilda winced at the memory. “I fell about
 CHAPTER TWO

ten metres and landed on a narrow ledge half-way

down the cliff face. I’ll never forget lying there
looking down at the foaming waves below, and the
salt lions staring up at me, licking their lips.”
David gulped. “I don’t feel very well,” he said.
“Maybe you could tell us the rest another time.”
“Relax, David,” said Frida, taking another
ginger biscuit. “This is the best story ever. What
did you do then, Hilda?”
“T started screaming for help, of course. Mum
was up at the top of the cliff, but she couldn’t find
a way down to me. And then I noticed a nest of
baby eagles beside me on the ledge. Tiny little
critters with big eyes and fuzzy heads.”
“Cute,” said Frida.
“Yes. But their mother was less cute.”
“Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes.” Hilda lowered her voice to a whisper
and angled her torch upwards so that her chin
and cheekbones were illuminated by a spooky
light. “There was an ear-piercing shriek and
before I knew what was happening, the mother
eagle swooped out of the sky and pounced on me,
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

flapping, pecking and scrabbling. She forced me

off the ledge until my feet were dangling in mid-
air and I was holding on with just my fingertips,
knowing that any second now I was going to—”
“Stop!” cried David. “I don’t want to hear any
more!” He crawled across the tent on all fours,
unzipped the opening and ran into the night. Cold
wind blew inside the tent, making Hilda and Frida
gasp and shiver.
Frida reached over to zip up the entrance.
“What then?”
“T looked up,” said Hilda, “and I saw something
so strange, I thought I must be imagining it. A
pure, white creature floating down from the sky,
surrounded by twinkling lights.”
“Twig!” cried Frida.
“That’s right,” said Hilda. “He was a bit bigger
than before, and his antlers were sharper, but I
recognized him straight away.”
“T didn’t know deer foxes could fly!”
“They can’t. But it turns out that every
spring there is a mysterious event called the
Great Deer Fox Migration. There’s a whole book
 CHAPTER TWO

about it at the library. All of the deer foxes in

the northern counties gather together into one
enormous flock and up they go, on this magical
luminous escalator.”
Frida clasped her hands together, hanging on
Hilda’s every word.
“Anyway, Twig grabbed me by the collar of my
jumper and somehow managed to haul me back
up onto the ledge. And when the eagle started
attacking again, Twig put his head down and
fended it off with his antlers. He led me all the way
along the ledge and found a safe path back up to
the top of the clift.”
“Wow.”
Hilda reached out and scratched Twig behind
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

his ears. “You missed your opportunity to migrate,

didn’t you boy? You let your friends carry on
without you, and you came and saved my life.”
Twig stretched forward and nuzzled Hilda with
his shiny black nose. Frida unzipped the entrance
to the tent and poked her head out.
“David!” she called. “The story’s finished.
You
can come back now!”
Silence,
“I wonder where he’s got to,” said Frida.
“Twig will find him,” said Hilda. “Won’t
you, boy?”
Twig arched his back, blinked twice and
padded out into the night.
David hurried through the woods, his heart still
pounding. Heights, birds of prey and salt lions
were three of his greatest fears, so Hilda’s story
had really given him goosebumps. Not until he
was far away from the tent did he remember that
his three other greatest fears were darkness, spooky
forests and being all alone.
“Why do I have to be such a scaredy-cat?”
he said out loud. He tutted angrily and kicked a
patch of moss, which promptly uprooted itself and
fled on spindly legs. David yelped in horror.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

He was really on edge now. He stopped dead

in his tracks, listening to the eerie scratchings and
rustlings of the forest. Then he heard a growl close
by and felt something brush against his ankle.
David leaped backwards, lost his footing and
fell head first down a steep slope. It’s only Twig, he
reassured himself on the way down, and that was
his last thought before passing out.

When David came to, he was propped up against

the wall of a cave and a man in chain mail was
bandaging his head. David jerked back in shock.
“Fear not, *sdid the man.” Tm here toshelps)
found you and your pet at the bottom of the hill.”
David looked around. Flaming torches cast
flickering shadows across the cave walls, and
the floor was littered with pottery and animal
bones. In the centre, meat was roasting over a fire
and gathered around it sat a horde of men who
looked like the Vikings in David’s picture books at
home. They were drinking from clay goblets and
sharpening fearsome-looking weapons.
“You'll have a lump on your head,” said the
 CHAPTER THREE

man, “but your injuries are nothing compared

to Olaf over there.” He gestured airily towards a
one-armed, one-eyed man in a horned helmet.
David stared. “You’re... you’re... you’re
Vikings,” he stammered.
“Indeed we are,” chuckled the man. “I am
Torgund, Warrior of Thunder. And you are...?”
“David.”
What would Hilda do in this situation? David
wondered. Ask the Vikings all about themselves,
probably, and then join them on some wild
adventure. But Hilda he was not.
“Thanks for patching me up,” said David,
standing up unsteadily. “I should be going now.
My friends will be worried.”
Torgund frowned. “You’re not leaving already,
are you? You'll miss your chance to show bravery
in battle!”
“Exactly.” David looked round wildly for an
exit to the cave. “You see, the thing about bravery
is, I don’t have any.”
“Aha!” Torgund slapped a big hand on David’s
shoulder. “If it’s bravery you need, you’re in luck.
HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF
 CHAPTER THREE

We came to this valley seeking the Medallion of

Sigurd. They say that all who touch it will be
fearless for the rest of their days.”
David stared at the Viking’s furrowed brow
and the torchlight dancing in his eyes. “You’re
saying I could be fearless?”
“That is precisely what I’m saying,” said
Torgund, his voice low and serious. “Only one
thing stands in our way, and that’s the Knudsen
clan. Those brigands stole the medallion before
we could claim it, so we’re going to slay every last
one of them!”
“Oh.” David stared at the Viking.
“That sounds... fair.”
“Do you know how to use a sword?”
<Now
“Bottlesaxer™
“No?
“Damage-hammer?” Torgund held up a
strange, spiky club.
“Certainly not,” said David.
Torgund’s eyes sparkled. “Then you shall be
our messenger on the battlefield! Come, David,
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

eat with us, and then we shall sally forth together

to paint the valley red with Knudsen blood.”
The mention of blood and the sight of one-
eyed, one-armed Olaf devouring a rack of ribs
made David completely lose his appetite. He
offered his portion of meat to Twig, who turned up
his nose. After the meal, the Vikings sang a hearty
battle song, banging their shields with their swords
and axes. Twig’s hackles rose along his back, and
he whimpered quietly.
“I’m scared, too, boy,” David whispered, “but
that’s why I’ve got to touch the medallion. ’m
tired of holding Hilda and Frida back.”
The Vikings’ battle song rose to a crescendo
and ended with a barbaric roar. In a frenzy of
excitement, they raised their weapons and rushed
out of the cave. Through the forest the Vikings
strode, and David tagged along. Bludbok leaves
and birch twigs rustled and crunched under their
boots, and the moon cast dabs of silvery light
across their painted shields.
All of a sudden, Torgund stopped and raised
a hand for silence. The warriors tensed, peering
 CHAPTER THREE

into the darkness ahead of them, sniffing the cold

night air for clues.
The sound of voices reached David’s ears.
They sounded happy, triumphant even, and
one in particular stood out among the chatter.
“Gaze upon it, men! The perfect prize that drives
out fear!”
“Knudsen,” Torgund mouthed, and he gestured
for his men to move forward silently. In the
clearing ahead of them, a battalion of soldiers was
gathered round their chief. Moonlight glinted off a
large, round amulet in the chief’s hand.
“The Medallion of Sigurd,’ murmured David.
“One touch, and I’ll be brave for the rest of my
life. Just think of that! P’ll swim Bjorg Fjord,
freeclimb the Glittercliffs, wrestle trolls, ride woffs
and cross rickety bridges over yawning chasms. I'll
never hold my friends back again.”
Torgund’s men fanned out around the edge of
the clearing.
As for Knudsen, he had not yet spotted the
danger. “When we take this medallion home,’ he
said, “all of our countrymen will touch it, and all
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

of them will be instantly freed from fear!”

“You'll do no such thing!” declared Torgund.
Knudsen looked up and saw that he and his
men were surrounded. He drew a mighty sword
from his scabbard and let out a deafening roar.
“CHARGE!”
A thousand startled birds woke from their sleep
and billowed up into the night sky. The Knudsen
clan thundered forward, swords and damage-
hammers at the ready.
 The Knudsens charged towards their foes,
their chain mail sparkling purple and gold. But
Torgund, Warrior of Thunder, stayed low behind
his shield.
“Fight smart, men,” urged Torgund. “They
have the medallion, but we have our skill and our
good sense. Sit tight and wait for my command.”
The Knudsens were just ten metres away.
“Hold the line!” cried Torgund.
Five metres.
“Hold fast!” cried Torgund.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

‘Two metres.
“Not yet!” cried Torgund.
BOOM!
Torgund’s men rocked back on their heels
as Knudsen swords assailed their shields. They
winced at the clash of steel on steel but still they
held the line.
“Now!” cried the Warrior of Thunder, and with
the speed of a striking viper, he emerged from
behind his shield and swung his damage-hammer
at the warrior in front of him. The hammer
fizzed and sparkled with magical energy, and the
enemy’s head flew clean off his shoulders.
“Gross!” squealed David, horrified.
Torgund’s clansmen had all leaped out at the
exact same moment, startling their attackers with
the suddenness and ferocity of their counterattack.
Swords chopped. Axes lopped. Deadly damage-
hammers bopped. Everyone’s weapons glowed and
sparkled as if blessed by some mystical force.
From the middle of the melee, Torgund’s
voice boomed loud and clear. “Messenger boy,
I summon you!”
 CHAPTER FOUR

“Oh, cruddlesticks!” muttered David.

David headed towards Torgund, doing his best

to avoid the most violent skirmishes. He ran like
a cat on hot bricks, jumping and flinching all the
way. “Ai!” he cried, tripping over someone’s leg.
“Oo!” he squealed as a sword whistled over his
head. “Ee!” he yelped, as he dodged an enormous
ball made up of wrestling Vikings.
When David arrived at Torgund’s side, he was
rewarded with a grizzled smile. “Good lad!” said
Torgund. “Go and tell Bjarnsen to bring up the
right flank!”
David set off running again. “Bjarnsen?” he
called. “Message for Bjarnsen!”
“Over there,” grunted a nearby soldier, jerking
his thumb towards the east side of the clearing.
A barrel-chested warrior stood in the moonlight,
swinging a mighty axe around his head, felling
countless foes with every swing.
David crouched low and hurried across the
clearing, trying to make himself as small and
inconspicuous as possible. “Hey Bjarnsen,” he
hissed when he got close. “Torgund says to bring
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

up the right flank.”

“T just did,” said Bjarnsen, as another whirl of
his axe sent three more of Knudsen’s men flying.
“Oh,” said David. “Good job.”
Bjarnsen held out the battle axe towards David.
“Give this)to Elof,;” he said:
David took the axe in both hands, staggered
a few paces and fell down in the mud. He hauled
himself to his feet, picked up the axe again,
dropped it again, picked it up again, dropped
it again, picked it up, dropped it, picked it up,
dropped it, picked it up, dragged it a few paces
through the mud and finally dropped it again.
 CHAPTER FOUR

“Elof!” he yelled. “Axe for Elof?”

There was no response, except for the clash of
metal on metal, and lots of enthusiastic shrieking.

Light fell on Hilda’s eyelids. She frowned, sat up

and rubbed her eyes.
“Hilda, is that you?” came a voice from the
sleeping bag beside her. The bag was zipped up
tight and a few locks of hair poked out the top.
“T had the most peculiar dream,” said Hilda.
“We were in a maths lesson at school and Miss
Hallgrim was telling us about right-angled
triangles when suddenly Erik Ahlberg burst into
the classroom and started screaming and yelling.”
Frida sat bolt upright and opened up her
sleeping bag. “There was screaming in my dream,
too,” she said.
The same thought struck both girls at precisely
the same moment. The Screaming Stones.
“The screaming wasn’t just in our dreams,
it was actually happening!” said Hilda. “I can’t
believe we didn’t wake up. We could have gone
and sketched—”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“Wait!” Frida interrupted sharply.

“Where’s David?”
Hilda looked over at David’s sleeping
bag, which had clearly not been slept in.
She remembered him leaving last night, and Twig
going out to search for him, and she and Frida
lying down to wait for them, and the pleasant
feeling of warmth and fullness and the waves of
tiredness spreading through her body. It had been
such a long, exhausting day.
“We fell asleep!” cried Hilda, horrified. “Poor
David’s been out all night. And Twig! Where on
earth are they?”
“Knock, knock! Rise and shine!”
Hilda and Frida looked at each other. The voice
sounded like David’s, but there was something
different about it — it was louder and more
confident than usual.
David unzipped the entrance and peered in.
He did not look like someone who had passed a
sleepless night. On the contrary, he looked fresh-
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

faced and full of energy.

“Come on, you layabouts!” he shouted. “Seize
the day by the horns! We’d better get a move on if
we want to get to those Screaming Stones!”
“Where did you go last night?” asked Hilda.
“We were worried about you.”
“Oh, here and there,” said David, cramming
his sleeping bag back into his rucksack. “Generally
living my best life. Why sleep the day away
when you can spend it performing marvellous feats
of bravery?”
“It wasn’t the day,” muttered Hilda, climbing
out of her sleeping bag. “It was the night.”
David threw a rowanberry into the
air and caught it in his mouth. Then he
hoisted his rucksack onto one shoulder and
disappeared outside.
“What a transformation!” |»
smiled Frida.
“Why’s he acting so strange?”
“T’ve got no idea,” whispered Hilda. “But
we'd better get a move on. He’s already packing
up the tent.”
The tent began to sag in the middle, then one

48 OS
 CHAPTER FOUR

side collapsed completely. Hilda and Frida shoved

their sleeping bags into a rucksack and wriggled
out just in time to avoid being engulfed.
With a sudden burst of energy, David crammed
the entire tent into his rucksack, then raised a
juice box into the air for a toast. “To your good
health!” he exclaimed. “And to the success of our
great journey!”
They set off northwards in the direction of
the Screaming Stones. All around them, the
forest was waking up. A linnet twittered in the
treetops. A squirrel bounded overhead. A pair of
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

woodchucks foraged on the ground.

“Oh, how much wood would a woodchuck
chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?” sang
David, striding along in the lead. “Stay out of my
way, woodchucks, or I?ll chuck you into the middle

of next week!”
“David!” said Frida. “There’s a bug on
your head.”
David darted off the path and banged his
forehead nine times against a tree trunk. “Got
him!” he cried, “and Ill do the same to any other
pest that lands upon my noble pate.”
They came to a river and walked alongside it,
David thrashing at reeds with a stick.
“Hal Yah! No foolish grass will stand in my way!
Ha! Yah! The Screaming Stones await!”
Hilda heard the sound of a waterfall up ahead.
Their pathway petered out and the river cascaded
over the edge of a cliff, thundering down into the
plunge pool below.
“We need to be really careful here,” said Frida,
consulting the Sparrow Scout Manual. “According
to this, we need to affix a safety tether and rappel
 CHAPTER FOUR

gently down the side of the—”

“Wooo-hooo!” shrieked David, and before
they could stop him, he sprinted past them and
took a gigantic leap off the edge of the waterfall.
“Geronimooooo!” he cried as he disappeared into
the misty spray below. “Woweee,” he yelled as he
resurfaced, laughing. “I feel incredible!”
Hilda and Frida exchanged an incredulous
look as David swam to the safety of the bank.
“Who are you?” Hilda yelled, “and what have
you done with David?”
The walk continued in this way, with David’s
antics ranging from brave to irresponsible to
completely reckless. The scariest moment of all was
when they spotted a brown bear rubbing its back
on the bark of a nearby tree trunk. Twig and the
girls tiptoed past, careful not to attract the bear’s
attention, but David had other ideas.
“HEYey OU FUZZY-BOZO" he yelled at the top
of his voice. “GET OUT OF OUR WAY!”
The bear straightened up and looked at
David. It reared up on its hind legs and let out a
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

menacing growl. Twig’s hackles rose and his tail

puffed up to twice its normal size.
“YOU THINK YOU SCARE ME?” yelled David,
swapping his stick for an even bigger one. “I'VE
GOT SCARIER BEARS IN MY TOY COLLECTION!
COME ANY CLOSER AND I'LL KNOCK THE
STUFFING OUTOPRYOUE
The bear roared and charged forward.
To the girls’ horror, David also roared and
charged forward. “LEMME ATCHA, TEDDY-
BRAIN!” he yelled.
The bear slowed down and stopped. It had
never encountered such an aggressive human
before. It paused for a moment, as if weighing
its options, then swiftly turned tail and fled into
the trees.
“HAHAHA!” yelled David. “THAT'S RIGHT,
RUN, YOU FURRY-FACED COWARD!”
The children continued along the path. The
ground underfoot was soft and squelchy, and
mangrove trees grew all around.
“Watch your step,” warned Hilda. “I think we’re
coming to a swamp.”
 CHAPTER FIVE

“I’m not scared of a silly swamp,” said David.

“No swamp can bog me down.”
Hilda sighed. David used to be quite
good company, but this new David was becoming
unbearable.
The trees thinned and the children emerged
into a wide swampy clearing dotted with bog
cotton, fetterbushes and water lilies. Out of the
middle of the swamp rose a pyramid of huge,
rectangular rocks.
“The Screaming Stones,” breathed Hilda.
“They don’t seem to be screaming,” observed
Frida. “Maybe they only scream at night.”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF
David shrugged off his rucksack and strode
down into the swamp, waving his big stick high
in the air. “Start screaming, then!” he cried.
“We came a long way for this!”
Hilda dropped her rucksack next to David’s,
picked up Twig and cautiously entered the
swamp, testing its depth with every step. At first
it only came up to her ankles but soon it was
up to her knees. As she walked, she tried not to
think of the pus spiders, rag leeches and swamp
toads described in Swamps and Their Unfriendly
Occupants.
David stood waist deep in the swamp, swatting
the stones with his stick. “Scream, curse you!” he
cried. “I want to hear some Grade A screaming or
Pll really give you something to scream about.”
“David, be polite,” said Hilda. She waded
towards him, feeling the clutch of cool, thick mud
around her legs. Twig suddenly went tense in her
arms, staring at a patch of boggy ground to the
right of the stones.
Hilda saw straight away what Twig had noticed
—a bubble of air forming on the surface of the
 CHAPTER FIVE

swamp. It swelled to the size of a football and then

burst, splashing its surroundings with little flecks of
mud. A second bubble swelled and burst, and then
a sudden movement deep down in the bog caused
a series of eerie ripples and shivers on top.
“There’s something in there,” said Hilda. She
strode towards David, grabbed the stick out of his
hand and pulled him behind the pile of stones.
“Hey!” cried David. “What are you—”
“Shhh,” hissed Hilda.
Frida quickly joined them and they huddled
together in the shadow of the stones as the swamp
continued to bubble and ripple. Great swathes of
mud and vegetation rose up out of the depths,
knotting and clumping together to form what
could only be described as a gigantic swamp man.
The creature’s lanky arms and legs were
shrouded in algae. Bog cotton stalks protruded
from its shoulder blades and its oblong slab of a
head was covered in purple filchweed. The children
craned their necks as they watched the swamp
man wade onto dry land and stalk off into the
forest. It moved with a loping gait, as if its head
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

was too heavy for its elongated body.

“Whoa,” said Hilda. “I don’t remember Emil
Gammelplassen mentioning THAT in his book.
I wonder what it’s up to.”
“111 find out,” said David, striding through the
bog in pursuit of the swamp man. “I'll find out
with my fists!”
“No!” Hilda took off after David and pushed
him head-first into the mud. “I’m sorry David,
but if you carry on acting this way, you’ll put us
all in danger.”
“I’m not scared of danger,” said David through
a mouthful of mud.
“Well you should be,” said Hilda. “Now, if you
don’t mind, we’re going to follow that creature at
a safe distance and see what he does.”
By the time they all got up onto dry land,
the swamp man was already out of sight. Twig,
however, was an excellent tracker. He scurried
forward through the trees, sniffing at bits of mud
and vegetation, and the girls followed behind.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

Hilda put an arm around David’s shoulder as

they walked. “David, you’re not yourself,” she said
gently. “What exactly happened last night?”
“Nothing much,” said David, “except that I bid
goodbye to the enemy that has been holding me
back my whole life. An enemy whose name begins
with F.”
Frida scowled. “I hope you don’t mean me.”
“Of course not,” David said. “You’re my friend.
I’m talking about fear.”
David told the girls about his meeting with
the Vikings and his adventures on the battlefield.
“You should have seen it,” he concluded. “By the
time the morning star rose in the east, not a single
enemy warrior was left in one piece. My friend
‘Torgund plucked the Medallion of Sigurd from
Knudsen’s lifeless body and we all leaned forward
to touch it. As my fingers made contact with the
cool metal, I felt a rush of power and confidence
through my whole body, and hey presto, all my
fears were gone!”
“Impossible,” said Frida. “There haven’t been
Vikings around here for hundreds of years.”
 CHAPTER FIVE

An anxious yap came from a clearing in the

trees ahead.
“What is it, Twig?” said Hilda. “What have
you found?”
They hurried out of the woods and found Twig
cowering on the edge of a field. Hilda and Frida
surveyed the scene and immediately understood
why Twig was so upset.
Dozens of heads, bodies, arms and legs were

strewn across the battlefield. Many of the heads

still wore their helmets.
Hilda gaped at David. “This was the battle
you were in?”
“Yes.” David shrugged. “It’s not as bad
as it looks, though. Everyone on my side survived.”
Frida pointed at a huge, dark figure moving
among the bodies.
“Look,” she said. “It’s Swamp Man.”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

The swamp man knelt down by one of the

corpses and repositioned its head and limbs. Once
all the body parts were in their correct places, the
creature opened a small green vial and splashed a
few drops of liquid onto the body.
The slain warrior yawned and sat bolt upright.
“Gah!” cried Hilda. “Did you see that?”
The swamp man moved on to another corpse and
did the same again. One by one, the fallen warriors
stirred their limbs and came back to life.
“This can’t be real,” said Frida, pinching herself.
“Tt’s real all right.” David sounded annoyed.
“That silly oaf is undoing our great victory. I must
go and tell Torgund.”
“Don’t!” cried Hilda. “He’ll only want to fight
them again.”
 CHAPTER SIX

But David was already dashing back into the

woods. He stomped through thick nettle bushes,
leaped over fallen branches and ran through giant
cobwebs without even squealing. Normally, Hilda
would have been able to beat David in a race, but
this new, courageous David was faster than the old
one and seemed to have no thought for his own
safety. He reached Torgund’s cave thirty yards
ahead of Hilda, and fifty yards ahead of Frida.
Torgund was tucking into a bowl of sticky
chicken wings when David skidded to a halt
in front of him and blurted out the news: “It’s
Knudsen and his men! They’re alive again! I’ve
seen them with my own eyes!”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

The Warrior of Thunder choked on a chicken

bone and had to be saved by three hard slaps
on the back from one-eyed Olaf. “How dare
those ingrates come back to life,” he spluttered,
“especially after we gave them such honourable
deaths? It’s an insult, that’s what it is! Prepare
for battle, men! We can’t let Knudsen reclaim

the medallion.”
The Vikings grabbed their weapons and
charged out of the cave, hardly even noticing a
blue-haired girl coming in the other direction.
“Hey!” called Hilda, as they knocked her to the
ground. “Why not just keep your medallion and go
home? Wouldn’t that be fun?”
‘The warriors paid no attention. They charged
on into the forest, shrieking wild war cries to
the wind.
Frida appeared at Hilda’s side. “Are you
all right?”
Hilda got to her feet and brushed herself down.
“Got a bit trampled there,” she said, “but such is
the life of an adventurer. Where’s David?”
“He went with the Vikings.”
 CHAPTER SIX

“Oh, no!” cried Hilda. “We need to stop him

before he gets hurt.”
With Twig at their heels, they dashed back
through the forest. When they arrived at the
battlefield, they saw that Knudsen’s warriors had
formed a siege formation in the middle of the
battlefield, their shields interlocked like the shell of

an enormous tortoise.
Hilda looked for David, and saw him
staggering towards the tortoise formation with a
sword that was far too big for him. She caught
him up and grabbed him by the collar.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“David, stop!” she shrieked. “You’ll be killed.”

“That’s just fear talking!” he retorted.
“Exactly,” said Hilda, “and fear can be a good
thing! Use your eyes, David. The fearless side is
getting slaughtered. They need a bit of fear to
make them fight smart.”
“No, they don’t!” cried David. “They just need
ME to help them!”
David squirmed free of Hilda’s grasp and
charged towards the tortoise formation, waving
his giant sword aloft. By the time he reached the
 CHAPTER SIX

Knudsen shields, his arm was already exhausted.

“David!” shrieked Hilda.
It was too late. As Hilda and Frida looked on
in horror, one of Knudsen’s men burst out of the
defensive formation, lopped off David’s head and
retreated gleefully behind the wall of shields.
Hilda and Frida screamed again and again as
David’s headless body fumbled around in the mud,
searching for his head.
“This is all my fault,” wept Hilda. “If I hadn’t
told that story about the razorbeak eagle, David
would have stayed in the tent last night. And if I
hadn’t suggested following the swamp man, we’d be
halfway home by now.”
“That’s it!” cried Frida. “The swamp
man! If anyone can put David back together,
he can!”
They ran back to the swamp and arrived just in
time to see the swamp man rising up out of the bog.
“Swamp Man!” yelled Frida.
“My name’s Sigurd,’ said the creature.
“You wouldn’t like it if I called you Flesh Girl,
would you?”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“Sorry,” said Hilda, “but our friend needs your

help. He got his head cut off, you see.”
Sigurd heaved a weary sigh. “Calm down,” he
said. “I’ll take care of it, like I do every night.”
“Are you saying they do this every night? How
long has it been going on?”
“FKeels like forever,” said Sigurd.
“And you keep saving them?”
A watery chuckle bubbled up from the swamp
creature’s throat. “I’m not saving them,” he said.
“I’m getting back at them. Those Vikings stole my
medallion from me. And another clan stole it from
them. I’m getting back at them all by making
them fight for it every single night.”
“So the screaming we heard last night was...”
“Battlefield screaming.”
“We thought it was the stones.”
“My rock collection?” Sigurd looked amazed.
“Of course not. Everybody knows that rocks
don’t scream.”
Hilda felt very silly, and also rather annoyed
at Emil Gammelplassen. He was still her favourite
author but he should not have jumped to
 CHAPTER SIX

conclusions about the Screaming Stones.

“Sigurd,” said Frida. “Why don’t you take your
medallion back?”
Sigurd considered this for a long time, then
shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “That thing just
makes you an idiot. I’'d rather continue my prank.”
“T don’t think I like your prank,” said Hilda.
Slt seems.c bit cruel>
Sigurd’s shoulders slumped. “Perhaps you’re
right,” he said. “Perhaps I should put an end to it.”
He heaved himself out of the swamp and led
the way back to the battlefield. The screaming
had stopped and the bodies of Torgund’s army
lay all around. David’s body sat in the middle of
the field and his head still wore an expression of
surprised displeasure.
“Do you want to do the honours?” said Sigurd,
passing Hilda his magic green vial.
“My friend will do it,’ said Hilda, passing the
vial to Frida. “She’s good with magic potions.”
Frida put David’s head back on and sprinkled
potion on his neck from the magic vial. As soon
as David woke up, Twig bounded forward and
nuzzled him affectionately.
“Where am I?” said David. “The last thing I
remember was running away from the tent and
falling down a hill. ’m such a scaredy-cat!”
“Don’t worry,” said Hilda, ruffling his hair.
“We like you being a scaredy-cat.”
“That’s right, said Frida. “Someone’s got to
talk sense into us from time to time.”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

David smiled, then noticed the dead bodies all

around and the swamp creature scowling down at
him. “Argh!” David sprang to his feet and backed
away. “Aieee!” He tripped over an obstacle and lay
sprawled on the ground. “AAAARGH!” He realized
that the obstacle was in fact a cheerful-looking head
without a body.
“Don’t worry, David,” said Hilda. “Sigurd is
going to revive all of your Vikings one last time. And
as for us, we’re going to fetch our rucksacks and
head straight home. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good,” said David in a sheepish voice.

“Hi Mum, I’m home!” yelled Hilda, bursting in

through the front door and kicking off her boots.
“Hilda!” Mum must have heard Hilda’s footsteps
on the stairs because she was already standing in
the corridor with a displeased expression on her face.
“Wow, that smells good,” said Hilda. “You’ve

got a pie in the oven, haven’t you? Let me guess.

Leek and potato? Spinach and rowanberry?”
“Remind me, Hilda, what time did you promise
to be home by?”
 CHAPTER SEVEN

TEnesaiinot sure”
“Lunchtime,” said Mum.
Obs
“So when lunchtime came and went, I rang
Frida’s mum to ask her where you were.”
FOhe
“And what do you think Frida’s mum said? [’ll
tell you what she said. SHE SAID SHE THOUGHT
FRIDA WAS AT OUR HOUSE!”
POR
“STOP SAYING OH AND TELL ME WHERE
,OUVE BEENI"
“We went camping,” said Hilda.
“CAMPING! CAMPING WHERE?”
“Atthe castle.”
PATAHE-CASILE?THEICASILE OUTSIDETIHE
CITY WALLS! HILDA, WHAT HAVE | TOLD YOU
ABOUT GOING OUTSIDE THE CITY WALLS?
YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS IT IS OUT
THERE! DON'T YOU REMEMBER WHAT THE
COMMANDER OF THE TROLBERG SAFETY
PATROL SAID ON THE NEWS YESTERDAY?”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“No,” said Hilda, who was no fan of

Commander Erik Ahlberg.

“He said there have been more troll fires
than ever burning around Trolberg these last
few nights.”
“Maybe the trolls have discovered the joys
of camping.”
“An ‘alarming increase’, that’s what he called it
— and you were out there in the middle of them!”
“Yes, I was,” said Hilda. “Happy and free, for
one night only.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Hilda could contain herself no longer. “It means
I’d rather be out there with the trolls than cooped
up in this flat!”
“Right, that’s enough.” Mum’s voice shook with
powerful emotion. “Hilda, you’re grounded.”
“What?” Hilda stared at Mum and her eyes
prickled with tears.
“Extremely grounded,” said Mum. “No going
out. No friends. No adventures.
You are not leaving
this flat until I say so.”
Hilda could bear it no longer. She grabbed
 CHAPTER SEVEN

Twig, stormed to her room and slammed the door

so hard that the doorframe juddered on its hinges.
“You should be careful what you wish for,” said
a stern voice, and a fuzzy head poked out from
underneath the bed. “You’re lucky, Hilda. You have
a warm, cosy home and a mum who loves you.”
Hilda threw her toy woff at the house spirit,
missing his head by a whisker. “I meant every
word I said,” she snapped. “I do wish I was out
there with the trolls. In fact, I wish I was troll.”

A sudden bang sounded from one of the troll

fires on the mountainside, casting an eerie, orange
flash across the bedroom wall.
“Tontu, I need to use Nowhere Space to get
to Frida’s house,” said Hilda suddenly. “Frida is
practising her invisibility spell tonight, and I should
be there to help her. I’m her familiar, after all.”
“No way,” said Tontu. “For one thing, Nowhere
Space is for essential travel only. For another,
Mum is baking a pie tonight.”
“Fine.” Hilda narrowed her eyes. “But what if I
told Mum that she didn’t lose her favourite bowl?
What if I told her that you broke it and hid the
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

evidence in your hidey-hole?”

Tontu considered this. “All right,” he said.
‘Toke aushands:
Hilda reached for Tontu’s hand and at that
exact moment, Mum came into the room.

“Pie’s ready Hilda, so if you’re hungry, you

might as well come and —- HILDA!” Mum ran to
grab Hilda’s free hand. “Don’t you dare go in
there, young lady!”
Hilda doubled her grip on Tontu’s hand.
She was already halfway into Nowhere Space
but Mum was trying to pull her back.
“Let go of me!” shrieked Hilda.
“You come back here this minute!” cried Mum.
Mum and Tontu pulled Hilda this way and
that. One moment it seemed as if all three of them
were about to tumble into Nowhere Space, the
next it seemed they would all end up in a heap on
Hilda’s bedroom carpet. The pressure on Hilda’s
arms was becoming unbearable.
“Hilda, this is really dangerous!” yelled Tontu.
“If you don’t come all the way through, you could
end up being catapulted into lim—”
 CHAPTER SEVEN

It was already too late. Hilda’s ears popped

and she felt a strange, falling sensation as she
flipped head over heels into the dank, cavernous
nothingness of limbo. The worst thing about
limbo was the fact that it was completely airless.
As Hilda fell, she winced and squirmed, trying
desperately to breathe.
Then, POOSHI In a dazzling flash of light,
Hilda shot out of limbo, fell onto something hard,
rolled down a rocky slope and stopped at the
bottom in a painful tangle of arms and legs.
A moment later, Mum fell right on top of her.
Twig, too, because he had been hanging on to
Mum?’s trouser leg.
Mother and daughter rolled apart and lay
side by side on the rocky surface, sucking in deep
lungfuls of air and blinking in astonishment.
Hilda was first to recover. “Mum!” she cried,

hugging her. “Are you OK?”

“T don’t know yet.” Mum touched her back and
winced. “Is this Nowhere Space?”
Hilda got to her feet and looked around her.
The landscape was dark and desolate. All around
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

them loomed giant tree trunks that looked like they

were made of stone.
“Doesn’t look like Nowhere Space,” said Hilda,
walking off among the trees. “Something went
wrong and it seems to have catapulted us to who
knows where.”
“We should stay here and wait for Tontu,” said
Mum. “If we wander off, we'll only get lost.”
“We’re already lost,” said Hilda. “And there’s
no point waiting for Tontu. He could be on the
other side of the world for all we know.”
They reached a ledge and looked out over
another vast, gloomy expanse of rocks and stony
tree trunks. There was no breeze at all. It was the
strangest place that Hilda had ever been in.
“Come on,” said Mum. “I saw some flattish
rocks back there — we can get some sleep.”
As the sun rose over Trolberg, David was woken up
by a frantic knocking on his bedroom window. He
jumped in fright, then recognized the tiny figure on
the outside window sill.
“Alfur!” He opened the window for the little
elf. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Something terrible has happened,” gabbled
Alfur, removing his pointy hat. “I got back
from the northern counties this morning and
you'll never guess what I found on the table in
Hilda’s flat.”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

David paled. “A nightmare spirit?”

“Worse:
SAetrolle®
“Worse, squedied Alfur, Avpiel”
“What?”
“Who bakes a delicious spinach and
rowanberry pie, sets the table for dinner, puts the
pie in the middle of the table, and then just leaves
it there?”
“Weird,” agreed David.
“And here’s another thing.” Alfur lowered his
voice to an ominous whisper. “I spoke to a courier
elf who told me that he happened to pass by
Hilda’s window last night, and he says he heard
her shout that she intended to go and live with the
trolls out in the wilderness.”
“Really?” David scratched his head. “That
doesn’t sound like Hilda.”
“It sounds exactly like Hilda!” said Alfur.
“You think she’s run away?”
“Yes, I do. And Mum’s bed hasn’t been slept in
either, which means she must have gone searching
for Hilda. So what are we going to do?”
 CHAPTER EIGHT

David frowned. “Let’s phone Frida,” he said at

last, “and do whatever she suggests.”

Frida agreed with Alfur about the most likely

explanation for this strange course of events. She
told Alfur to wait in Hilda’s flat in case someone
returned. Meanwhile, she and David would head
out into the wilderness as a search party.
They cycled to the edge of the Great Forest,
as before, and hid their bikes in giant roffleworts,
as before. As they ventured into the forest, Frida
saw a forest giant lumbering among the trees,
and three plump troll rocks sitting around the
blackened remains of a campfire.
Late in the afternoon, a woff emerged from a
hollow bludbok tree, dipped down beside them as
if in greeting, then soared high up into the air.
“Look!” cried Frida, beside herself

with excitement.
It was not unusual to see woffs in the
wilderness. Every few days they migrated down
the valley in great flocks, their fluffy tails flickering
from side to side and their huge eyes staring
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

straight ahead. But this woff was unusual for two

reasons. First, it was alone. Second, it was not
yellow like a normal woff. It was dazzling white.
Frida smiled as she watched the beautiful
creature. “When the white woff flies, the witches
smile,” she whispered. “Must be a good month
for magic.”
A shadow fell across the forest and an immense
dirigible floated into view above the treetops.
“Look who’s here,” said Frida, pointing at the
Safety Patrol logo on the side of the airship. “As if
we didn’t have enough problems already.”
“Oh no!” cried David. “The white woff is
heading straight towards it!”
He was right. The woff seemed to be flying on
a direct collision course with the dirigible. Any
second now, and that beautiful, magical creature
was going to get knocked out of the sky.
“Hey!” screamed Frida, jumping and waving.
“Look out!”
As the woff neared the dirigible, the control
pod hanging underneath the airship banked
suddenly to starboard, as if the pilot had tugged

88
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

the joystick violently to the right. Like a speeding

arrow, the woff flew straight and true between the
metal struts of the pod, and on into the vast blue
sky beyond.
“Bravo!” cried Frida. “How’s that for an
evasive manoeuvre?”
But she had spoken too soon. Humungous
airships are not designed for aerobatics, and the
sudden jolt seemed to have thrown the craft off
balance. It banked and swung from side to side,
lurching and staggering like a drunken giant, the
control pod nosing further and further down until
it brushed the topmost leaves of the lofty iron
pines. Frida saw the pilot, Safety Patrol deputy
Gerda Gustav, hunched over the controls in the
cockpit, her face pale and drawn.
“They’ve lost control!” yelled David. “Come on,
Gerda. Pull up! Pull up!”
The mighty craft did pull up, inch by precious
inch, its nose straining upwards into the sky. But
just as it seemed to be out of danger, its tail end
clipped the tip of a sturdy iron pine, puncturing
the canvas balloon full of pressurized gas. An eerie
 CHAPTER EIGHT

hissing sound echoed among the trees and the

dirigible went wild, zooming all over the place like
a leaping, swooping, fast-deflating party balloon.
Frida and David screamed as the zeppelin
came crashing down through the branches and
skidded along the ground towards them.
“RUNI” shrieked Frida, grabbing David’s
hand and sprinting down the track. The zeppelin
ploughed after them, smashing through the
undergrowth. Frida glanced back and saw that
Erik Ahlberg had joined Gerda Gustav in the
cockpit. There he stood, hanging on to the back
of the pilot’s chair, white-knuckled and bug-eyed
with fear.
The zeppelin slowed down and came to a stop.
A flock of startled starlings flew up into the sky as
the nose of the airship crumpled against a mighty
iron pine trunk.
Frida and David stopped running and turned
to stare at the wreckage. The door of the control
pod creaked open and Ahlberg stumbled out. His
feathered hat was still on his head but his eyes
were dazed and unfocused.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“Never fear, children!” Ahlberg cried. “You’re safe

with me.”
Gerda Gustav appeared behind him, pushing him
away from the wrecked airship.
“Everybody back!” she yelled. “Go, go, go! Back
behind that rock!”
 CHAPTER EIGHT

As soon as he realized the danger he was in,

Ahlberg put on a surprising turn of speed. He
barged past Frida, knocking her to the ground,
and threw himself behind the granite boulder.
David and Gerda rushed to Frida’s aid. They
seized one arm each, dragged her behind the rock
and ducked down low.
They all shut their eyes tight and clung to
each other as a deafening boom rocked the forest.
Tongues of fire singed their hair and eyebrows,
and plumes of acrid smoke made them cough
and splutter.
When the smoke cleared, David craned his
neck to look back at the zeppelin. It had exploded
in a ball of fire, flinging bits of wreckage all over
the forest floor, and now it was quietly burning
itself out.
Frida touched her foot and winced. “I think
I’ve sprained my ankle,” she said.
 la
Mum and Hilda trudged through the silent
forest with Twig at their heels. On a walk in the
wilderness, Twig would normally have rushed
ahead to sniff the flowers and paw at insects, but
in this strange, gloomy landscape he seemed tense
and anxious, as if sensing danger all around.
Besides, there were no flowers or insects here, nor
any colour at all, just mile upon mile of slate grey
tree trunks and boulders.
There was barely enough light to see where
they were going, let alone to see the tops of the
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

trees, which towered into nothingness above their

heads. They had woken up at ten o’clock that
morning, according to Mum’s watch, and now it
was two in the afternoon. “Why is it still dark?”
they kept asking each other, but neither of them
had any answer for that.
“Tf you had only listened to me...” said Mum
for the hundredth time.
“If you hadn’t grabbed my hand...” replied
Hilda, exasperated.
They had not drunk anything since yesterday,
and their thirst was making them tetchy. They sat
down on the ground, leaning against a tree trunk,
and Twig nuzzled their legs, trying in vain to keep
their spirits up.
“At least we’re together,” said Mum.
“Yes,” said Hilda.
The trunk felt hard and cold against Hilda’s
back. Not like a real tree at all, she thought. It’s
almost as if this whole forest is made of stone.
They were quiet for a long time, each lost in
their own thoughts, and then Hilda felt Mum’s
body suddenly tense.
 CHAPTER NINE

“What is it?” she whispered.

“There’s something on my hand,” hissed Mum.
Ever so slowly Mum raised her hand in front of
her face and peered through the darkness at the
thing on her hand. When she saw it, she screamed
and flicked her hand to shake it off. Twig jumped
to his feet, braced for a fight.
“It’s all right,” said Mum, making an effort
to sound calm. “Some sort of disgusting slug,
that’s all.”
“Great,” said Hilda, who was not afraid of
slugs, disgusting or otherwise. “I was beginning to
think we were the only living things in this place.”
Mum stood up. “Let’s keep going,” she said.
“We really need to find water.”
She strode off, but Hilda rushed after her and

pulled her back. “Mum!”

“What is it?” snapped Mum.
“You were about to walk into a ravine,”

said Hilda.
Mum shuddered as she peered into the chasm
at her feet. “Whoops,” she said. “Thanks, Hilda.”
Hilda wanted to try jumping across the ravine,
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

but Mum stopped her. So they turned and walked

along it instead, eyes on the ground, their footsteps
echoing in the darkness.
Half a mile further on, a large, flat boulder had
been laid across the ravine, forming a bridge. As
Hilda walked across, she could not help wondering
who or what had hauled that boulder into place.
On the other side of the ravine, Hilda spotted
a dark pool that looked like it could be water.
She ran to it and plunged her hands into the
cool liquid.
“Yes!” she shouted, and was about to cup
her hand to her mouth, when Mum stopped her.
“Don’t drink that, Hilda. It’s stagnant.”
Hilda nearly wept in frustration, but the
discovery of water had made Mum hopeful. “Cheer
up,” she said. “It must have come from somewhere.
All we have to do is listen carefully for the sound
of — aha!”
Hilda heard it, too, the unmistakable sound of
running water. They set off towards it, scrambling
over boulders and splashing through rock pools.
The sound grew louder all the time and Hilda’s
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

heart flooded with hope. “That’s more than just a

stream, Mum! That’s a waterfall!”
A huge pile of boulders blocked their path. Slim
rays of light shone out between the boulders. Hilda
squeezed through a narrow gap, then reached back
in and pulled Mum after her.
“Tight squeeze,” grinned Mum. “You’d better
pull hard...” Her voice trailed off and her eyes
widened as she took in her surroundings.
“What?” said Hilda, turning to look. “Oh,” she
added. “Wow.”
The vast space they found themselves in was
more cavern than forest, and the trees were not

in fact trees but huge pillars of stone stretching

all the way up to a ceiling of rock at least a
hundred metres above their heads. The source of
the light was a hole in the ceiling, through which
a magnificent cascade of water plummeted into a
plunge pool. Rays of light refracting through the
tumbling water formed a glorious double rainbow
in the mist above the pool.
 CHAPTER NINE

But Hilda and Mum were not alone in the

cavern. Far from it. Wherever Hilda looked, she

saw trolls of every shape and size. Some splashed

in the plunge pool or the streams that flowed from
it. Some sat on boulders gazing at the waterfall.
Some snored. Some argued. Some wrestled.
“TI don’t believe it,” breathed Mum. “I’ve never
heard of so many trolls all in one place.”
Hilda opened her mouth to speak but her throat
was so parched with thirst that her voice came out
as a dust-dry croak. “Me neither.”
“There’s another of those horrible slugs,” said
Mum, pointing.
The slug was making its way along a slab of
stone near Hilda’s left elbow. As she looked at it,
the slug opened its jaws and chomped down hard
on the stone, taking a big bite out of it.
“Rock-eating slugs,” croaked Hilda. “I think
Caves and Their Unfriendly Occupants mentioned
something about those.”
“Took there,” Mum whispered, pointing to
a rivulet of fresh water that snaked away from
the plunge pool behind a row of high boulders.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“Maybe that would be a good spot to drink.”

They scuttled from boulder to boulder, terrified
of being spotted, and at last they found themselves
in a safe, secluded spot, hidden from the view
of the lounging trolls. They knelt down by the
stream and scooped crystal-clear water into their
mouths, gulping it gratefully until they could drink
no more.
“That’s better,” said Hilda, wiping her mouth
with the back of her hand, but at that moment
she felt the grip of strong teeth on her trouser-leg,
hauling her away from the stream into the shadow
of a boulder.
“What is it, Twig?” she whispered.
“What’s wrong?”
Hilda soon had her answer. Peering around the
side of the boulder, she saw an enormous troll
emerge from a nearby cave. A tiny troll child
waddled at its side, followed by a sorry-looking
goat on the end of a rope. Piled up on the goat’s
back was an enormous bundle of provisions: three
sacks, a barrel, a leg of meat and an enormous
clump of what looked like radishes.
Mum had seen it, too. She darted to Hilda’s

side and flattened herself against the boulder,

holding her breath. A sudden chomping sound
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

made Hilda jump, but it was just another rock-

eating slug.
The bigger troll, presumably the troll child’s
mother, looked left and right and sniffed the air.
She growled softly at the back of her throat, and
lumbered over to the boulder where Hilda and
Mum were hiding.
“Ba ba ba ba baba,” said a high-pitched voice,
and Hilda turned away from the mother troll to
see the troll child standing right in front of her,
babbling excitedly.
“Shhhh,” urged Mum. “Shhh shh!”
“Ba babababa!” laughed the child, pointing
at Twig.
The mother troll plodded round the boulder
to see what her baby was pointing at. She looked
down at the three non-troll intruders, and for a
moment she seemed as shocked as they were. Then
her maternal instincts took over and she let out a
terrifying roar that echoed off the rocky walls and
ceiling of the vast cavern.
Hilda jumped aside as the mother troll’s fist
slammed down beside her. “RUN!” cried Mum, and
 CHAPTER TEN

off they shot, splashing through rock pools and

clambering over boulders, their footfalls slapping
loudly on the rocky ground. The mother troll
pursued them, roaring her displeasure, her rancid
breath warm on the back of Hilda’s neck.
The goat flashed past in front of them, its rope-
leash dangling free and its heavy bundle swaying
precariously as it ran.
“Follow that goat!” cried Mum, grabbing
Hilda’s hand and dragging her after the
stricken animal, through a series of labyrinthine
passageways. This way, that way, this way, that
way, left and right and right again, Hilda had no
idea her Mum could run so fast.
Perhaps Mum thought that the goat knew a
way out of this nightmarish cavern. Perhaps she
imagined that it would lead them to freedom
and that the four of them would live happily ever
after as one strange but happy family: mother,
daughter, deer fox and goat.
Whatever Mum might have thought, she
thought wrong. The goat led them to the deadest
of dead ends, a complete cul-de-sac surrounded on
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

three sides by high, smooth walls of solid granite.

The goat skidded to a halt and looked back
mournfully. It gave an apologetic little bleat, as if
to say: I’m sorry, truly I am, but I’m only a goat.
You should not have trusted your lives to my sense
of direction.
A few seconds later, the mother troll also
rounded the corner. There before her was her
goat, still bearing its precious bundle of food,
but the two humans and the deer fox had
inexplicably disappeared. The only living things
in sight were the goat, the troll child and a dozen
rock-eating slugs.
 CHAPTER TEN

Back in the Great Forest, near the wreck of the

Safety Patrol dirigible, Frida leaned against a
boulder, nursing her sprained ankle.
Erik Ahlberg sat opposite her, talking
about trolls.
“If you had seen what I saw from the air
today,” he said, “the blood in your veins would
turn to ice. I counted hundreds of troll fires
dotted all over the mountainsides and the Great
Forest, and as you know, hundreds is practically
thousands, which is very nearly a million. Horrific,
when you think about it. I’m supposed to go on
Trolberg Tonight to report on the results of today’s
mission, but I’m guessing we’re not going to make
it back in time for tonight’s show. Don’t worry,
child, it’s not your fault. Such an injury could have
happened to any untrained individual.”
“You tripped me,” said Frida coldly.
“T saved you,” shot back Ahlberg. “A little
gratitude would be nice.”
A cry of excitement filled the air and David
and Gerda emerged from the trees carrying a
large, black crate between them.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“The emergency supplies box survived the

crash!” beamed Gerda. “It contains a first-aid
pack, three days’ rations and a blimp kit.”
“What’s a blimp?” asked Frida.
“A tiny aircraft,” said Ahlberg. “That little
beauty is going to fly us right out of here. It only
takes three hours to build.”
“But the sun is already going down,” said
David, “and we’re surrounded by troll rocks.”
Ahlberg puffed out his chest and flicked the
feather in his hat. “You three build the blimp,” he
said, “and I’ll take care of the trolls! How does
that sound?”
“Terrifying,” muttered David.
Gerda found the blimp assembly instructions
and laid out the pieces on the charred grass.
There were ropes, fibreglass poles and dozens of
mysterious metal components. While Gerda busied
herself with the blimp, David found a bandage in
the first aid kit, and bandaged Frida’s ankle.
“Good job,” smiled Frida, turning her foot this
way and that to admire David’s handiwork.
 CHAPTER TEN

“First Aid was my very first Sparrow Scout

badge,” said David. “I also know what to do if
you get bitten by a snaggletooth python...” He
looked anxious and peered into the long grass
behind him.
“I’m sure that won’t happen,” said Frida.
“Come on, let’s help Gerda build the blimp.”
Making a passenger basket out of the bendy
poles was easy enough, but the motor was
fiendishly difficult. The instructions said to attach
the flange to the crankshaft, but none of them
knew what those words meant. As for David, he
kept glancing apprehensively at the balloon itself,
which was flatpacked into a canvas bag covered
with yellow and black warning symbols. The
words on the side were hardly reassuring.

“TO INFLATE, PULL RIPCORD AND

RETREAT AT LEAST TEN PACES.”
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

The sun set behind Mount Halldor and one

by one the stars came out. From the mountains
all around them came the eerie sound of rocks
cracking and re-structuring.
“David, could you shine a torch on this for
me?” said Frida, who was dexterously attaching
what she hoped was a flange to what she imagined
might be a crankshaft.
“Sure.” David hurried over ‘to her.
The sounds from the mountainside were
now more animal than mineral, a cacophony of
yawning, growling and lip-smacking.
David’s hand trembled more than ever. “Sorry,”
he said again, grabbing the torch in both hands.
There was a sudden crack of branches close
at hand and two wrestling trolls rolled out of the
bushes right in front of them. Two more followed.
‘They grinned when they saw the gaggle of human
beings goggling up at them.
“Take it easy, everyone,” whispered Gerda.
“Whatever you do, don’t antagonize them.”
Commander Ahlberg had other ideas. He ran
straight at the trolls, waving and shouting.
 CHAPTER TEN

“Back, you beasts!” ! he cried. “I’ll have your guts

”

for garters!”
The trolls surrounded Ahlberg and circled him,
grinning and drooling. One of them curled its
hand into a colossal fist.
| Piease! criedserda to the trolls. Don’t
harm him!”
Ahlberg’s initial burst of bravery quickly wore
off and he realized the danger he was in. He
tried to dart out of the circle of trolls, but they
kept moving to block his way. One grabbed his
feathered hat and placed it on its own head at a
jaunty angle.
Frida had an idea. She delved in her shoulder
bag and pulled out a small pouch — the dust she
had collected at the ruined castle. She poured
some of the dust into her palm and crept towards
the trolls. She began to chant the spell:
“Lund Skipta...”
On the last word — “Kvinkindi!” — she threw the
dust into the middle of the circle of trolls. Erik
Ahlberg spluttered and his head transformed into
that of a giant insect. The trolls stared in horror
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

at his huge bug eyes, his hideous mouthparts

and his long, hairy antennae, waggling at
them reproachfully.
Three of the trolls turned and fled, but the one
in the hat reached out to touch the bewildered
insect man.
POP! Erik Ahlberg completely disappeared.
The troll jumped backwards as if it had been
scalded, then turned and fled into the forest.
Frida was almost as surprised as the trolls had
been. “It worked!” she cried. “My spell worked!”
“Did you see that?” The tiny, nasal voice
seemed to come from somewhere on David’s head.
“Did you see how they ran from me?!”
Gerda and Frida peered at David’s hair and
there, just above his left ear, was a yellow and
brown bug with a tiny Safety Patrol logo on
its abdomen. It was waving four of its legs and
cheering shrilly.
“Oh no,” gasped Frida. “I must have done the
chant wrong. I seem to have turned Mr Ahlberg
Mmto da“ buge:
The mother troll led her goat and her child out
onto a ledge overlooking the Great Forest. She
gazed up at the stars and sucked into her lungs a
delicious mouthful of cool, fresh air.
The goat kept bleating plaintively and sinking
down on its haunches, as if the weight of the
bundle on its back was too much for it. If the
mother troll had stopped to think about the goat’s
unusual behaviour, she might have understood
the mysterious disappearance of those two human
beings she had chased through the mountain.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

But she did not stop to think about it. She simply
slapped the goat on its bottom to chivvy it forward
along the ledge.
A group of trolls was gathered around a bonfire
under the starry sky. The mother troll reached
into the bundle of provisions and pulled out three
hunks of raw meat, a sack of grain and a clump
of radishes. The perfect distractions for unfriendly
fellow trolls. She tossed it to them and they began
to devour the food, munching and gnawing and
smacking their lips. The mother scooped up her
child, made her way carefully down the slope and
joined the feast around the fire.
Hilda poked her head out from inside the
bundle where she was hiding and took a deep
breath. A big wooden barrel was digging painfully
into her ribs, but she no longer cared about that,
because for the first time that day she recognized
her surroundings. She was out in the open air on
the lower slopes of Boot Mountain. The Great
Forest was spread out beneath her and there in the
far distance, twinkling welcomingly, were the lights
of Trolberg.
 “Psst, Mum!” Hilda pulled her head back inside
the bundle of provisions. “Turns out we were in
Boot Mountain the whole time! I can see Trolberg!
We just have to walk down the hill and we’ll be
home by morning!”
“Hilda, that’s wonderful!” Mum raised her hand
and they high-fived silently. “Is the coast clear?
Can we make a run for it?”
“There’s a group of trolls around the fire,”
whispered Hilda, “but they’re busy eating. I don’t
think they’ll notice us.”
Hilda and Mum wriggled out of the bundle
and dropped silently to the ground. Hilda
pressed her body against the rock and moved
forward in a low cat crawl. Mum followed, hardly
daring to breathe.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“RAAAAARRRRRRI!!”
The sudden roar made Hilda jump. She looked
up and saw a gigantic two-headed troll burst out
of the opening in the mountain and charge to
the bonfire where the other trolls were feasting. It
snatched a meaty bone out of a furry troll’s hand
and chomped down on it.
The furry troll ran at the intruder and tackled
it around its knees. Another troll jumped onto its
back, another headbutted it in the midriff. But the
colossal, two-headed troll was bigger and stronger
than all of them. It punched and snapped and
roared and slapped.
The mother troll snatched up her child and ran
back into their cave. Hilda and Mum ran in the
other direction, sprinting down the mountainside
as fast as their legs would carry them, staggering
and stumbling as they went, dodging flying rocks
and bones. They no longer cared about stealth,
only speed.
When they reached the foot of Boot Mountain,
they leaped into the middle of a giant rofflewort
and cowered there, clinging to each other and
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

panting heavily.
“Are we still in danger?” panted Mum. “Were
any of them chasing us?”
“T don’t think so,” said Hilda.
She raised her head an inch or two and looked
back up the mountain, just in time to see the
two-headed troll pick up the last of its attackers
and hurl it into a bush. The twin heads roared
again — thunderous, full-blooded roars that shook
the mountainside. Then it hoisted the goat and
the bundle of food onto its left shoulder and
disappeared into the cave.
“Phew,” said Mum. “I wouldn’t want to be on
the wrong side of that thing.”
Hilda giggled with relief. “It was kind of
traumatic,” she said. “But such is the life of an —
OH NO!”
“What is it?”
“TWIG!” Hilda leaped out of the rofflewort and
started to sprint back up the mountain.
“Hilda, wait!” Mum dashed after her and
grabbed her by the shoulders. “I’m sure Twig’s
fine. He probably escaped a different way.”
 “He’s not fine!” Hilda tried to wrest herself
from her Mum’s tight grip. “If he was fine, he’d be
here. He’s still in that bundle, I know he is. Maybe
his antlers snagged on a sack of grain, or maybe
he was wedged in too tightly and couldn’t get out.
The two-headed troll has got him, Mum! Don’t
you understand? I’ve got to go back!”
“You'll do no such thing!”
“But Mum, this is Twig we’re talking about!”
Hilda’s tears were flowing freely now.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“Have you forgotten how many times

he saved my life? Have you forgotten the
razorbeak eagle? Twig left his family and came
to save me, remember? I’m going back, and
there’s nothing you can do to—”
“Hilda!” Mum was on the brink of tears as
well. “Listen to me! You’re not going back for
Twig. I am.”
Hilda stared at Mum. She had not
expected that.
“lL mean it,” said)/Mums Pibqoan there,
T’ll find Twig, and [ll bring him back to you,
okay? And you are going to stay right here
and wait for me.”
“But—”
“No buts, Hilda.” Mum7’s voice was stern.
“You get inside that rofflewort and you stay
there, understand?”

Hilda wiped her cheeks with the back of her

hand and nodded silently. Then she watched,
astonished, as Mum clambered back up the
north side of Boot Mountain and disappeared
into the cave.
Se

_
On the south side of Boot Mountain, on the edge
of the Great Forest, Gerda, Frida and David
huddled together, shivering with cold. Frida’s
bandaged ankle was stretched out in front of her,
and David cradled a Thermos in his lap. Above
them stretched the wide night sky, inexpressibly
vast, bisected by a bright strip of stars which the
ancients knew as the Road of Milk.
Gerda had decided that with so many trolls on
the move, it was too dangerous to finish building
the blimp. Their own safety should be the priority,
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

she had said. They had covered the half-assembled

blimp with iron pine branches and gone looking
for a good hiding place. After a few minutes, they
had found a secluded spot surrounded by rocks
and ferns.
“Are you sure that Commander Ahlberg
is all right in there?” asked Gerda for the
hundredth time.
David unscrewed the top of his Thermos
flask and listened. “Sounds fine to me,” he said,
putting the top back on. “Alive and buzzing.”
 CHAPTER TWELVE

“How about you?” Gerda asked Frida.

“Are you okay?”
“Ankle feels fine,” said Frida, her teeth
chattering. “But I’m so c-c-cold.”
“We should make a fire,” said David.
“Remember what you said the other night, Frida?
There are so many troll fires around Trolberg these
days, one more won’t make a difference.”
He busied himself collecting twigs and branches
for the fire. Gerda found a box of matches in the
emergency supplies box, and soon they had a good
blaze going.
“Hey Gerda,” said David. “You mentioned
something about emergency rations?”
Gerda grinned. “Do you like Jorts?”
“Do bears like honey?” laughed David. “Of
course I like Jorts!”
They opened a packet of Jorts and passed
it around, taking one at a time. The Jorts were
flavourful and salty, the perfect camping snack.
“So, tell me,” said Gerda. “What were you

doing outside the wall?”

“Our friend ran away from home,” said Frida.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“Her Mum went missing, too. We heard they’d

come out here.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Gerda, and she
sounded genuinely concerned. “Why didn’t you go
to the authorities?”
Frida shrugged. “They’re not very helpful most
of the time.”
Gerda stared into the fire and nodded sadly.
“Point taken,” she whispered.
All three of them were silent for a while,

warming their hands against the fire, lost in

thought. David thought of Hilda and wondered
where she was right now. Wherever she was, he
hoped that at least she was safe and warm.
‘There was a sudden rustle in the bushes and a
troll stepped into the firelight. It lumbered forward,
staring at the terrified campers, and the terrified
campers stared right back.
David was the first to recover his composure.
Something clicked in his brain and a memory
came back to him. A memory of feeling different.
A memory of feeling fearless.
 CHAPTER TWELVE

David saw his hand stretch out in front of him

and he heard himself greet the troll in a weirdly
casual voice. “Hello there. Would you like a Jort?”
The troll kept eye contact with David as it leaned
forward and sniffed the Jorts. Then it grabbed the
whole bag and plumped itself down by the fire.
“Well,” whispered Frida, forcing a smile.
wT histis Cosy; ish tite.
The troll downed all the Jorts in one go and
slapped the empty bag upside-down on its head
like a hat.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“Looking good,” said David, approvingly.

The troll’s body seemed to relax a little. It
stared into the flames and sighed contentedly.

Hilda crouched in the middle of the giant

rofflewort, staring at the cave entrance where
Mum had disappeared. How long had it been now?
Judging by the progress of the constellation Thor
across the sky, it had been at least two hours.
“Sorry, Mum,” Hilda whispered, “but that’s all
_the waiting I can do.”
She vaulted out of the rofflewort and hurried
up Boot Mountain in a low crouch. All over the
mountainside, troll fires crackled and hissed with
wild energy. Hilda steered well clear of them,
taking a long, zigzagging route.
At last she reached the abandoned fire near
the mouth of the cave, the one where the group
of trolls had feasted on meat and radishes. Hilda
reached down and chose a good stick from the
fire. It was about a foot long, burning brightly at
one end.
 CHAPTER TWELVE

Hilda dashed into the cave, holding her flaming

torch low to the ground, eyes peeled for clues.
She noticed a little pile of goat droppings halfway
along the tunnel, and then another further on.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

She came to a fork in the path, where three

identical-looking tunnels snaked deep into the
mountain. Which one to take? thought Hilda.
Which one? Back and forth she shuffled, waving
the flaming torch from side to side. Then she saw
it: a tiny apple core lying in the mouth of the
leftmost tunnel.
She picked it up and examined the tooth marks.
Definitely human and deer-fox. Hilda had found
the apple inside the troll’s bundle of provisions, and
she, Mum and Twig had taken a few bites each.
Hilda ran up the apple-core tunnel, following
its twists and turns. A narrow path led down to her
left and Hilda stopped again, unsure which way
to go. There were no clues of any sort — until a
muffled bleat rang out ahead.
The goat!
Holding the flaming torch ahead of her, Hilda
ran full speed along the tunnel and found the
entrance to a cave. Hefty bludbok logs had been
lashed together to form a massive door, but there
was nothing that looked like a handle.
 CHAPTER TWELVE

Hilda heard a revolting snoring sound from the

other side of the door, and something else as well:
the patter of tiny hooves.
“Twig,” she whispered. “Is that you?”
A quiet whine answered her.
Hilda looked again at the door. The lashes that
bound the logs together were made of thick twine.
Maybe she could use the torch to burn through
the twine and send the logs crashing down on the
other side of the entrance.
Too risky, she thought. I might hurt Twig, or
wake the sleeping troll.
Perhaps there was another way into the
chamber. Hilda retraced her steps and took the
narrow path instead. She heard the sound of
rushing water and the path led out onto a narrow
ledge, high up in the waterfall cavern.
Hilda inched her way along the ledge, feeling
the spray on her face, hardly daring to look down
at the plunge pool far below.
The ledge became a steep, slippery incline.
Hilda threw down the torch and used both hands
to haul herself up. She knew that one false move
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

could send her plummeting over the edge and

down onto the rocks, but she was an experienced
climber, able to find hand and footholds where
others could not. As she inched her way up the
slope, the sound of snoring confirmed to her that
she was on the right track, but then to her surprise
and disappointment, the slope levelled out and
ended in a vertical wall of rock.
“T don’t believe it,” muttered Hilda. “Another
dead end.”
A loud crash came from the chamber above,
followed by a high-pitched scream.
“MUMI” cried Hilda.
Looking up at the ceiling, Hilda saw a huge
trapdoor with a metal padlock. She bashed it
with her fist once, twice, three times, but the lock
held fast.
Hilda cast around for something to pick the
lock, but all she could see was a rock-chewing
slug inching its slimy way across the wall in front
of her.
“Hello there,” she said, picking it up. “I wonder
if you fancy a different sort of snack?”
Hilda guessed from Mum’s scream that she was
having a difficult night, but she had no idea just
how difficult. At that exact moment, Mum was
teetering on top of a crate, which was balanced
on another crate, which in turn was balanced on
a tall bookshelf.
Mum?’s fingers strained upwards towards an
opening in the ceiling of the cave. Her way in had
been blocked when the troll had heaved the door
into place, but if she could only reach up a little
bit further, this second opening could prove the
perfect escape route for her and Twig.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

The bookshelf and the crates were not the most

stable ladder Mum could have wished for, and the
snoring of the two-headed troll directly below her
was a constant reminder of the cost of failure. She
had already knocked a shelf off the wall, sending
a whole heap of junk cascading down onto the
sleeping troll. Why neither head had woken up was
still a mystery.
With one final effort, Mum succeeded in
hooking her fingertips over the lip of the hole high
up in the wall. “Twig!” she called softly. “You go
first and I’ll follow after! Twig, where are you?
Twig! Come here!”
The troll’s chamber was a hoarder’s paradise,
with vast amounts of stuff piled high in every
corner. Chairs, baskets, copper pipes, roof tiles,
all sorts of junk had found its way into this small
cave. And as bad luck would have it, Twig had
suddenly become distracted by the discovery of a
tiny bird in a cage.
Mum watched helplessly as Twig approached
the cage and sniffed at the bird.
TWEET! TWEET! TWEET!
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The two-headed troll had remained asleep

when a heavy wooden shelf had fallen on its heads,
but somehow the twitterings of a tiny bird were
enough to wake it up. One eye opened, then two,
then three and four, and the first thing those eyes
saw was a female human teetering on the top of a
makeshift ladder.
A surge of incandescent rage lit up the pair of
tiny brains and from the pair of mouths came a
bellow so loud that every living creature on the
mountainside jumped in fright.
The troll jumped up and reached for Mum.
She closed her eyes and winced and —
WHUMP!
A trap door opened in the floor and the troll
disappeared through the gap, along with an
avalanche of junk. Craning her neck, Mum saw
the astonished expression on the troll’s two heads
as it slid down a rocky slope and over the edge of
oeprecipice:
There was a pause, then Hilda popped her head
up through the trap door. “Who would have thought
it?” she said. “Rock-eating slugs eat metal, too
feed
 “Hilda!” Mum scrambled down the makeshift
ladder and flung herself into Hilda’s outstretched
arms. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Sorry I didn’t stay put,” said Hilda, her voice
muffled in the front of Mum’s jumper.
“Vl let you off, just this once,” said Mum.
Twig wriggled up between them, yapping and
snuffling, overjoyed at this unexpected reunion.
“Come on,” said Mum. “Let’s get out of here.”
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Slowly and carefully, they inched their way

down the rocky slope and along the vertiginous
precipice in the waterfall cavern. Peeking over the
edge, Hilda saw the two-headed troll sitting waist
deep in the plunge-pool below, alive but dazed.
The troll looked up as they passed, and the
sight of the intruders on the ledge above seemed
to jog its memory. A furious bellow echoed around
the cavern.
“It’s wading out of the plunge pool,” said
Hilda. “It’s shaking its fist at us. It’s coming
this way.”
“Knough of the running commentary!”
said Mum.
Up the narrow tunnel they ran, then left, then
straight, then left again. But it all looked different
without a torch, and Hilda was far from certain
that they were going the right way. The tunnel
seemed wider than before, with caves leading off
on either side.
“TI don’t remember this bit!” panted Hilda.
“T think we might have taken a wrong -— oof!” she
tripped over something soft and sprawled on the
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

floor of the tunnel.

“Bababababa,” said the soft thing.
“Oh no,” said Hilda.
Warm orange light spilled out of a nearby cave.
A shadow passed across the entrance and there
in front of them loomed the mother troll who had
chased them earlier that night.
Heavy footsteps echoed along the tunnel behind
them, and the roaring of the two-headed troll came
closer. The mother troll’s eyes widened in fear
and in one quick, decisive movement, she scooped
up Mum, Hilda and Twig, carried them into
her cave and rolled an enormous boulder across
the entrance. A moment later, the two-headed

troll charged past, its furious footsteps receding

into the distance.
“Babababal” said the troll child, pointing
at Hilda.
The mother troll’s cave was neat and homely,
lit by flickering lamps around the walls. It was
divided into two parts: a kitchen area with shelves
and a cauldron, and a sleeping area around a
cosy-looking fire.
 oe

BO
‘

SG
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

The hour that followed was one of the most

extraordinary hours of Hilda’s life. The mother
troll looked after Hilda and Mum like honoured
guests. She gave them a blanket and a pillow in
the warmest, cosiest corner of the sleeping area
and brought them each a mug of something warm
and sweet that tasted of elderflowers and honey.
As for the troll child, it kept toddling over to
Hilda to bring her random gifts: first a carrot,
then a sprig of heather, then two small, stone
figures. Hilda could not help noticing that one of
the figures looked a bit like the troll child, and the
other looked like her, with a scarf of leaves and
blue yarn for hair.
“So cute,” said Hilda sleepily.
Mum spread the blanket over Hilda, then
cuddled up with Twig.
The last thing Hilda saw was four glowing of
eyes on the far side of the cave: mother and child,
watching her intently as she drifted off to sleep...
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sun rose over the Great Forest. A flock of
pink-footed geese flew over the mountains and
crickets whirred and clicked in the grass below.
David wrinkled his forehead and snuggled his
head deeper into his pillow, but the pillow was
no longer as soft as it had seemed before. It felt
strangely rough against his cheek, then crusty and
then as hard as stone.
When David opened his eyes, he found that he
was sitting upright with one arm around a boulder
and his face pressed against it. An empty packet of
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

Jorts on top of the boulder twitched in the morning

breeze, then fluttered to the ground.
“Gah!” cried David, letting go of the troll rock
and checking himself to see whether any of his
limbs had been bitten off. So far as he could tell,
he was intact.
Frida was already awake, watching him with
an amused expression.
“Morning,” said David, sheepishly. “Do you
think it hurts, turning into stone like that?”
Frida shrugged. “I imagine it would make me
pretty grumpy.”
A loud buzzing came from the Thermos flask
at David’s feet. The buzzing woke up Gerda, who
opened her eyes and smiled sleepily.
“Morning, campers,” said Gerda. “You ready to
build that blimp?”
“Definitely,” said David. “But before we do, we
should probably boost our energy with another
bag of those excellent Jorts—”
Gerda reached for the emergency rations, then
suddenly looked up at the sky. “Watch out!” she
yelled, pointing. “It’s some kind of crazy pigeon!
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

It’s dive-bombing us!”

“That’s not a crazy pigeon,” said Frida.
“That’s Cedric, and the elf on his back is called
Alfur. You can’t see him unless you sign the
paperwork. Morning, Alfur!”
Cedric landed on the troll rock’s nose and Alfur
dismounted with a flourish. “Tontu came home,”
he said excitedly. “It took him a while, but he
made it back to the flat safe and sound, and he
saw where Hilda and Mum exited limbo.”
“Where?” cried Frida and David at the same

time. “Where are they?”

R163
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“They’re closer than you think.” Alfur waved

a page from one of Hilda’s old sketchbooks, a
map of the valley and the surrounding mountains.
“You see this mountain in the middle of the map,
rightheres”
“Boot Mountain?”
“Well, yes,” said Alfur, “but that’s just Hilda’s
silly name for it. We elves call it something much
more fitting.”
“What’s that?”
“Troll Mountain,” said Alfur, lowering his voice
to a sinister whisper. “Tontu is ninety-nine per cent
certain that Hilda and Mum are somewhere inside
Troll Mountain.”
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hilda was in the middle of a beautiful dream

when she was startled by a troll child jumping on
her chest.
“Ba...ba...bababababa,” it said.
Hilda tickled the toddler under its chin. “Oof,”
she said. “You’re heavy.”
The two mothers were already awake. The troll
mother was dragging her finger in the dirt, making
a series of strange patterns.
“Morning, Hilda!” said Mum. “Our host is
drawing us a map to show us the way out!”
“What’s that thing there?” giggled Hilda,
pointing to a circle with a squiggly tail drawn in
the dirt.
As if in reply, the troll mother closed her fist
and lifted it high in the air. When she opened her
hand, a snow-white woff was sitting on her palm.
“Whoa!” said Hilda. “How did you do that?”
The troll mother blew gently on the woff, which
lit up like a fiery ember and flew away.
“A glow-in the dark woff!” squealed Hilda.
“That must be our guide. It’s going to lead us
out of here!”
 Fae

eet
——
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“Come on!” cried Mum. “We mustn’t lose it!”

The mother troll rolled the boulder away from
the cave entrance and the fiery woff flew out into
the dark tunnel beyond. Hilda and Mum ran after
it, their hearts alive with hope, Twig bounding at
their heels.
Hilda paused in the tunnel and looked back.
The troll child stood at the entrance to its cave,

watching them with big, bright eyes.

“Bye-bye,” said Hilda, waving to it. “Thank
you both so much!”
The woff guided them through a maze of
boulders and tunnels. Mum and Hilda followed
at a trot.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” said Mum,
smiling down at Hilda.
“Not really,” said Hilda. “It’s quite nice to
be in peril when I know yow’re waiting for me at
home with a nice pie or a freshly baked cake. But
it’s kind of unnerving when you’re actually, you
know, here!”
Mum chuckled.
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“And no offence,” Hilda added, “but you run

like a troll.”
“T don’t run like a troll!”
“Yes, you do,” Hilda giggled. “Heavy footed,
like a great big troll.”
elidont?
“Listen to yourself and you’ll see what I mean,’ >

said Hilda. “Clomp, clomp, clomp }>?

“T thought that sound was you!” squealed

Mun, laughing so hard she could hardly run
straight. “You and your great big boots. Clomp,
clomp, clomp.”
Hilda frowned. She knew it wasn’t her that was
clomping, but she certainly wasn’t imagining it.
If anything, the sound was getting louder.
CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP!
A horrible feeling of dread stole over Hilda, and
when at last she risked a backward glance, she
knew with certainty what she would see.
The two-headed troll was clomping down the
tunnel in hot pursuit. Its vicious, bloodshot eyes
met Hilda’s frightened gaze, and it began to roar
its heads off.
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“RAAARRRRI!”
No one was laughing now. Hilda, Mum and
Twig picked up their feet and sprinted down the
tunnel as if their lives depended on it, which of
course they did.
Even Hilda’s speed was no match for this troll.
Four enormous fingers and a massive thumb
closed around her waist and the next thing she
knew, she was no longer running but pedalling her
legs in mid-air.
‘Two slavering mouths yawned open to receive
the delicious human morsel, and for a moment it

seemed undecided on which of its mouths to feed.

That one second of indecision was what saved
Hilda. That, and her plucky deer fox friend, who
scrambled up the troll’s left leg, then sailed through
the air and sank his teeth into its thumb.
“AAAIEEEEE!” roared the troll.
It opened its hand to shake Twig off, allowing
Hilda to wriggle out of its grip.
“Well done, Twig!” yelled Mum.
Twig and Hilda hit the ground at the same
moment. Mum helped her daughter up and off
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

they shot, sprinting after the fiery woff. They were

nearing the end of the tunnel, but the troll was
catching up again. Any second now and it would
be upon them.
“Coo-roo-catoo!”
A pigeon swooped into the tunnel, ridden by
a pointy-hatted elf. As the troll reached out to
grab its prey, Cedric flew right in front of its eyes,
flapping its wings and cooing its head off.
The troll stumbled and almost fell. It snarled
and beat the air in an attempt to swat the pesky
pigeon, but Alfur was a skilful rider and he
managed to avoid each swipe.
Out of the mountain dashed Hilda, Mum and
Twig, and the distracted troll blundered after
them, realizing far too late that a bright new day
had dawned.
As soon as the sun’s rays hit the troll, the cells
of its body began to mutate. Its muscles cooled. Its
tendons hardened. Silicon and quartz filled every
pore and all four livid eyes sank into flint. As stony
and immobile as a statue, the bicephalous troll
tumbled heads over heels down the mountainside,
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

a snarl of anguish frozen on each face.

From Alfur’s vantage point on pigeonback, it
soon became clear that even in its lumpen form
the troll was still a threat. The colossal boulder
gathered speed as it crashed and bounced through
bushes and trees.
“Run faster!” !> panted Mum as she
careered down the hill, pumping her arms like an
elite sprinter.
“I’m going as fast as I can!” called Hilda, her
yellow scarf streaming out behind her in the wind.
“Implement CAMs!” yelled Alfur suddenly.
Hilda looked up and saw the little elf gesturing
at her frantically. “How can I?” she shouted back.
“T don’t even know what that means!”
“CAMs!” screamed Alfur. “Cliff Avoidance
Manoeuvres! There’s a steep drop straight
ahead of you!”
Hilda realized that they had exited the
mountain on the opposite side to where they had
gone in. This side of the mountain was not the
gently sloping front of the Boot, but the steep and
deadly heel. The problem was, she was already
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

running so fast, she was practically in freefall. She

could not slow down now even if she wanted to.
"Mum was first to reach the precipice.
She barrelled off the edge and flew out into
nothingness, her arms and legs wheeling helplessly.
“Grab on!” cried a child’s voice.
A weighted rope dropped right in front of
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

Mum. She made a grab for it, held on and let it

take her weight, whisking her up and away into
the bracing wind.
“Good catch, Hilda’s Mum!” cried Frida.
“Welcome aboard this BA flight.”
“Blimp Air,” chuckled David. “Hold tight while
we pull you up.”
Hilda was thrilled to see her mum was safe,
but she knew there was no way the blimp could
double back in time to save her, too. Twig was
hanging off her trouser leg, trying desperately to
slow her down, but there was nothing either of
them could do.
They dived off the edge of the cliff and fell
through the void, faster and faster, cold air
whistling past them. Hilda felt a pang of déja vu
as her hat flew off, her jumper billowed and the
ground rushed up to meet her.
Mum hugged her rescue rope and stared in horror
as Hilda and Twig flew off the edge of the cliff
and plummeted towards the ground, followed a
moment later by the two-headed troll rock. The
rock was so gigantic, it completely hid Hilda and
Twig from her view.
“Don’t worry!” shouted Frida. “Hilda is a good
rider. She’s done it loads of times.”
“Rider? What do you mean? Done what loads
of times?”
A snow-white woff shot up into the air, with
 ce

Se

aang
~~
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hilda and Twig on its back. Joyfully it looped the

loop and barrel rolled and span.
‘I'm on top of the WORLD!” yelled
Hilda, laughing.
“Just make sure you hold on tight!” yelled
Mum. “And tell that big fluff-ball to stop
showing off!”
Hilda buried her face in the soft white fur
between the woff’s teddy-like ears. “Thank you
for saving my life,” she whispered. “You’re the best
rescue vehicle I’ve ever ridden.”
Tears of relief streamed down Mum’s cheeks as
the magical woff, the emergency blimp and the
goggle-eyed pigeon broke free of Troll Mountain
and headed back to Trolberg.

An hour later, Hilda, Frida, David, Gerda, Alfur

and Tontu were seated around the table in Hilda’s
flat. Twig dozed contentedly on the sofa and
Cedric strutted on a windowsill.
“Hot chocolate for the adventurers,” said Mum,
coming into the room with a steaming pan. “Shall
I pour it into that Thermos flask?
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

“No!” cried Frida, horrified.

“Ahlbug’s in there,” said David. “I mean,

Erik Ahlberg.”
“Ts he, really?” Mum laughed. “And Miss
Hallgrim is in my snowglobe, I presume.”
While Mum went to fetch some mugs, Hilda
picked up the Thermos and peered inside. A yellow
and brown insect with a Safety Patrol logo on its
abdomen looked up at her and buzzed angrily.
“Whoa,” said Hilda. “Did you do this, Frida?”
“Not on purpose!” said Frida. “I was trying
to do the invisibility spell, but I ended up doing
transformation by mistake.”
“Do you think you can transform him back?”
“Let me see.” Frida took a pinch of castle dust
from her pouch and tossed it into the Thermos. She
chanted the reverse spell: “Lund Skipta Menskr!”
There was a loud pop and a puff of smoke.
When the smoke cleared, Erik Ahlberg was sitting
on the table.
“It worked!” cried Frida.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

Ahlberg jumped down and rounded on Frida.

“How dare you use magic on me?” he snapped.
“And as for you, Deputy Gerda, you put me in a
Thermos flask!”
“To be fair, sir, you were a bug at the time.
It was for your own safety.”
“Safety!” Erik Ahlberg tossed his head. “You
are fired from the Safety Patrol, Deputy Gerda.
And none of you have heard the last of this, I can
promise you that!”
Commander Ahlberg tightened his belt,
adjusted his cape and hat, and stormed out of
the flat.
Mum returned with a tray of mugs and a
big bowl of marshmallows. “Seeing as we are
celebrating,” she beamed, “I thought we’d have
marshmallows in our hot chocolate.”

As Hilda slid down between her cool cotton sheets

at bedtime, she could not help remembering the
rough, woollen blanket she had curled up beneath
the previous night. The mother troll had slept
without a blanket or pillow, having given her
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

guests everything she owned.

And for what? What had humans ever done for
trolls, except drive them from their homeland, build
a wall to keep them away and torment them with
agonizing, unrelenting bells? By welcoming Hilda
and Mum into her home, the mother troll had
shown the sort of kindness that people like Erik
Ahlberg would never understand.
Mum came in and sat down on the edge
of Hilda’s bed. “Krona for your thoughts,”
she murmured.
“T was thinking about those trolls,” said Hilda
sleepily. “The ones who took us in last night.”
“They saved our lives,” said Mum. “And I do
wish we had the recipe for that honey drink they
gave us. That was amazing.”
Hilda smiled and nodded. A tear formed in
the corner of her eye.
“Hilda, what’s wrong?” asked Mum, stroking
her hair.
Hilda was determined not to cry. She bit her
lip, screwed up her face and tried to think of
happy things, but it was no good. “I keep thinking
 HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF

about that moment when you ran back into the

mountain to save Twig,” she sobbed. “I thought I
might never see you again.”
Mum leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“l’m not going anywhere, Hilda. I love you far
too much.”
“I know you do. But I’ve been so horrible to
you—” Hilda’s words came in short, teary bursts.
“Tying and sneaking out and not playing that new
Dungeon Crops game even though you’ve been
asking me for weeks — I’m so sorry, Mum! Ill be
better, .1 promise.”
“Shush, now.” Mum put a finger over Hilda’s
lips. “You don’t need to be better, Hilda. Just don’t

hide things from me, okay? I’m glad you’re the

way you are. I’m proud of you. But if you don’t
tell me what’s going on, how do I know you’re
safe? That’s kind of worrying for a mum.”
Hilda wiped her eyes on her woff toy. “You
really don’t wish I was different?”
“T wouldn’t change you for the world.”
Hilda sat up in bed and they hugged for a long
time. Then she lay down again and let Mum tuck
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

her up tight. AsMum walked away, Hilda felt

Twig jump onto the bed and curl up on her feet.
“No sneaking out, all right?” said Mum,
switching off the light.
“Don’t worry about that.” Hilda closed her eyes
and snuggled into the pillow. “I’m not getting out
of bed for a week.”
 How much can you remember from
Hilda and the White Woff? Answer these
fiendish quiz questions to find out!
 | | ne

. What boardgame does Mum want to play?

. What kind of plant is big enough to hide a bike in?

. Name one of the types of food that Hilda, Frida

and David eat in the Great Forest.

. What kind of bird did Twig save Hilda from?

. What is Torgund also known as?

. What is the magic necklace that banishes

fear called?

. What flavour is the pie Mum bakes?

3. Name two members of the Trolberg Safety Patrol.

] . What was David's first Sparrow Scout badge?

1 0. What kind of animal carries the troll mother's

food and bundles?

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ENJOYED HILDA AND THE WHITE WOFF?
THEN DON'T MISS...

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 "WELCOME TO THE PACK!
Do you have what it takes to be a brave and brilliant
Sparrow Scout? Learn how in this official guide — with a
little help from Hilda. Earn badges, from practical skills
like tying knots to the best way to ride a woff.

This illustrated guide contains essential information on

magical creatures, from trolls to tide mice. It will even help
you to become a nature explorer, just like Hilda! As well as
learning about the stars and how to build a shelter, you'll
discover loads of tips and tricks on Trolberg life from your
favourite blue-haired adventurer.
CYCLING AND HORSEBACK RIDING BADGES
A noble steed is necessary for Sparrow Scouts who want to
get out and about in Trolberg — be it on horseback or by
bicycle. But whether your steed has two wheels or four hooves,
learning how to ride it swiftly and safely is essential!

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 WATCH

HILDA
ON NETFLIX!
 She's a fearless blue-haired girl who travels from her
home ina vast magica! wilderness, full of elves and
giants, to the bustling city of Trolberg. There she meets
new friends and mysterious creatures who are stranger
-and more dangerous-than she ever expected.

Seasons 1 and 2 now streaming on Netflix.

PRAISE FOR THE HILDA COMICS

“Pearson has found a lovely new way to

dramatise childhood demons, while also making
you long for your own cruise down the fjords.”
The New Yorker

“Plain smart and moving. John Stanley's

Little Lulu meets Miyazaki.”
Oscar award-winning Director Guillermo Del Toro

“Hilda is a curious, intelligent,

and adventure-seeking protagonist.”
School Library Journal

“The art is as whimsical as the protagonist,

and the bright colours enhance this comic book's
magical realistic effect.”
The Horn Book Review

“Luke Pearson's Hildafolk series mixes

humour, mystery and fantasy into a superb piece
of escapism for young and old alike.”
Broken Frontier
PRAISE FOR THE HILDA FICTION

“A fun and pacey adventure combining

a contemporary heroine with a gentle
mythological element.”
BooktTrust

“Want to take the kids on a great

adventure? Hilda is the one!”
the Great British Bookworm

“I have loved Hilda since the Hildafolk

graphic novels, and now the full-length
novels are just as good (maybe better)!”
Mango Bubbles

“Dynamic cartoon art brings the book to life,

Hilda's bravery is an inspiration, and the world's
details —the giant she chats with, the rabbit-riding
elf army—will pull readers in.”
Publishers Weekly

“The Hilda books are already beloved favourites

of many kids; the Netflix series and these chapter
books are likely to get her even more fans.”
The Beat
 ie
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 i Pe
am eI an

GOLLEGT ALE THE BOOKS

\
IN THE HILDA SERIES...
a Ce
wy,
dy }— FICTION BOOKS
Written by Stephen Davies

Hilda and the Hidden People

Hilda and the Great Parade
Hilda and the Nowhere Space
Hilda and the Time Worm
Hilda and the Ghost Ship
Hilda and the White Woff

>. GRAPHIC NOVELS

A Written and illustrated by Luke Pearson
Hilda and the Troll
Hilda and the Midnight Giant
Hilda and the Bird Parade
Hilda and the Black Hound
Hilda and the Stone Forest
Hilda and the Mountain King

Discover more of Hilda's world at

www.hildabooks.com
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 A trpintothe ood: ieadetoa& whole host of
langerous happenings for our favourite blue-haired
.dventurer, Hilda. Awrong turn through Nowhere
Space takes her to a mysterious mountain, with
no Way |out. ites: thing dealing with two-headed
y trolls, but she has to protect Mum and Twig too.
Can Hilda get everyone home, and all in one piece?

“the perfect companion to the BAFTA

Award-winning NETFLIX show!

GBP £6.99
ISBN 978-1-83874-029-0

flyingeyebooks.com 9" 781838 Iii

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