Amelia Fang and the Memory Thief. Laura Ellen Anderson

      ‘Stop messing around you two,’ said Amelia, as a Perfumed Pea went flying into her mixing bowl. ‘You’ll get us into trouble before we’ve even finished our first lesson! Also, what are you doing with those peas? There aren’t any Perfumed Peas in this recipe . . .’

      ‘SORRY,’ said Florence, getting ready to shove another Perfumed Pea up Grimaldi’s nose. ‘COOKING S’NOT REALLY MY FING . . .’

      ‘What?’ said Tangine, raising his eyebrows. ‘But cooking is so fun!’

      ‘THE EATING PART IS FUN. JUST NOT THE MAKING PART,’ said Florence.

      ‘Well, keep your peas to yourself,’ Amelia smiled. ‘Tangine and I actually want to cook!’

      As Amelia studied the Sublime Cookie recipe, she couldn’t help giggling at the numerous pictures of Mr Sublime in a flowery apron.

      ‘First, we need to combine one hundred and fifty grams of Sunflower Root with two spatulas of powdered Scorpion Grass . . .’ said Amelia, reading through a list of ingredients. ‘Wow, I’ve never heard of any of these things before.’

      ‘That’s because they can only be found in the Fairy Forest in the Kingdom of the Light,’ said a voice next to Amelia, making her jump.

      ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘Hello, Mr Sublime . . .’

      Florence leaned over. ‘HEH, SLI—’

      ‘Don’t!’ interrupted Tangine, shoving a spatula in Florence’s mouth.

      Grimaldi now had around fifty Perfumed Peas in his eye socket.

      ‘The Fairy Forest is teeming with millions of amazing and mysterious plants. Even I, an expert, couldn’t possibly know about them all !’ said Mr Sublime with a smile. ‘What’s your name, young vampire?’

      ‘Amelia Fang.’

      Mr Sublime raised his eyebrows. ‘I believe I’ve heard of you . . .’

      ‘And I’m Prince Tangine!’ interjected Tangine. ‘You’ve probably most definitely heard of me, because I’m sort of famous.’

      ‘You’re the daughter of the Count and Countess Fang?’ said Mr Sublime, ignoring Tangine.

      ‘Oh, yes,’ said Amelia shyly. ‘That’s Mum and Dad.’ Amelia’s chest tightened as she remembered the argument she’d had with her mum the night before.

      ‘I heard your mother puts on a ravishing Barbaric Ball every year!’ said Mr Sublime. ‘I expect you’ll follow in her frightful footsteps?’

      ‘Hmmm, she’d love that, but I’m not really into party planning and all that stuff,’ said Amelia, feeling a little deflated. ‘I really want be a Pumpkinologist when I grow up.’