Magic Puffin: a Birthday Surprise (Pocket Money Puffin) Read online

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Happy birthday, Puffin!

  Did you know that in 1940 the very first Puffin story book (about a man with broomstick arms called Worzel Gummidge) was published? That’s 70 years ago! Since then the little Puffin logo has become one of the most recognized book brands in the world and Puffin has established its place in the hearts of millions.

  And in 2010 we are celebrating 70 spectacular years of Puffin and its books! Pocket Money Puffins is a brand-new collection from your favourite authors at a pocket-money price – in a perfect pocket size. We hope you enjoy these exciting stories and we hope you’ll join us in celebrating the very best books for children. We may be 70 years old (sounds ancient, doesn’t it?) but Puffin has never been so lively and fun.

  There really IS a Puffin book for everyone

  – discover yours today.

  Sue Bentley’s books for children often include animals, fairies and wildlife. She lives in Northampton and enjoys reading, going to the cinema and watching the birds on the feeders outside her window. At school she was always getting told off for daydreaming, but she now knows that she was storing up ideas for when she became a writer. Sue has met and owned many animals, but the wild creatures in her life hold a special place in her heart.

  Books by Sue Bentley

  MAGIC KITTEN SERIES

  MAGIC PUPPY SERIES

  MAGIC PONIES SERIES

  MAGIC REINDEER – A CHRISTMAS WISH

  SUE BENTLEY

  Illustrated by

  Angela Swan

  PUFFIN

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

  Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank,

  Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  puffinbooks.com

  First published 2010

  Text copyright © Sue Bentley, 2010

  Illustrations copyright © Angela Swan, 2010

  Colour Puffin artwork on cover copyright © Jill McDonald, 1974

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the author and illustrators has been asserted

  Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  ISBN: 978-0-14-195332-8

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  To all Puffins, the feathered and the literary kind. You’re Magic.

  Prologue

  ‘Yay! I did it! I delivered my first dream!’ Splash exclaimed happily. Flapping his wings, the young magic puffin headed home to Silver Dream Cliffs.

  Ahead of him, dozens of his friends flew in neat ranks as they also returned from their special nightly task of bringing good dreams to children everywhere. Now Splash would be going with them every night too.

  As the little puffin gave a joyful twitch of his stubby tail, a sprinkle of sea-blue glitter trailed out behind him. He was so busy thinking about telling his family the exciting news that he didn’t realize he had fallen back from the others. With a flutter of his tiny wings, Splash flew harder to try to catch up.

  Below him the sea was as clear as glass. Sand eels flashed enticingly among the waves. At the sight of them, Splash’s small tummy rumbled and his mouth watered. He was very hungry after his busy night.

  There was a strict rule that all magic puffins must return to Silver Dream Cliffs and report safely to the leader before they were allowed to go fishing. But those wriggly, delicious-looking sand eels were so tempting.

  Surely it could do no harm if he dived into the sea and scooped up just one tiny beakful? I could be back with the flock before anyone even notices, Splash thought.

  The temptation was too much. On impulse he dipped his wings and streaked downwards. The fresh smell of the sea surrounded Splash as he dived in. One, two, three delicious eels slipped down his throat before he quickly rose to the surface again.

  But in that short time, the sky had grown much darker and the waves were being whipped into small peaks. There was a crash of thunder and lightning zigzagged across the sky.

  A strong whoosh of cold air swept the little puffin up from the sea. Splash tried to fly up to join his friends, but he felt himself being pulled away off course. His heart beat fast as he flapped desperately against the furious wind.

  ‘Help! Help!’ he called to the magic puffins far above him.

  But Splash’s little voice was lost in the might of the sudden storm. It was all he could do to stay in the air and not pitch helplessly into the crashing waves.

  Suddenly, there was a bright flash of sea-blue light and the little puffin felt himself drifting downwards on a gentle wave of sparkly magic.

  Chapter One

  ‘Bye! Have a great time on the island!’ Martina Judd’s mum and dad called, waving from the quayside.

  Martina waved back. ‘See you later! Good luck in the golf tournament.’ Kids weren’t allowed to take part in the competition, so Martina was going to spend the day visiting her uncle and cousin on nearby Bird Island. She hung on grimly to the wooden seat as her uncle steered the small boat out to sea.

  Martina could taste salty spray on the breeze. She glanced nervously at the choppy waves that slopped against the side of the boat.

  ‘I hope you’ve brought your sea legs, love!’ Uncle Andrew said good-naturedly, grinning.

  ‘I think I must have left them at the hotel!’ Martina replied with a wobbly smile. She was trying very hard not to think about how deep the sea must be now.

  Her uncle turned back to the wheel and looked out of the cabin window. Suddenly, a whoosh of freezing water splashed into Martina’s lap.

  ‘Oh!’ she gasped in shock.

  From the other side of the boat came peals of laughter. Martina glared at her cousin who sat opposite.

  ‘You idiot, Gary. That’s not funny. I’m soaked!’

  ‘It’s only a few drops! Don’t be such a wimp!’ Gary crowed, wiping his hands on his jeans. ‘Your face looks green. You’d better not be sick because I’m not clearing it up!’

  Martina swallowed hard, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her tummy. She wished she could think of a clever answer. She’d forgotten what a total pain Gary was. He seemed to think he could order her about just because he was nearly three years older than her. At least t
his was only a short trip. She wouldn’t have to put up with him for long.

  Martina thought longingly of the holiday hotel room, with its big squishy sofa and huge TV. She had planned to spend the afternoon playing on her new computer console. But that was before Uncle Andrew phoned and invited her to help him and Gary in their week-long survey of bird numbers.

  Ahead of them, the island was getting closer. It was a dark looming rock, ringed with towering cliffs and topped by an old lighthouse. Martina couldn’t imagine how Uncle Andrew and Gary could bear to stay there. What a total waste of the summer half-term.

  Martina sighed, looking glumly towards the small open-sided cabin where her cousin had gone to stand with his dad.

  ‘Why did she have to come?’ Gary’s moody voice complained. He obviously thought he was out of earshot, but the sea breeze carried his words clearly to Martina. ‘She’ll just be in the way. You know what girls are like about creepy-crawlies and stuff.’

  ‘Now, Gary,’ his dad replied calmly. ‘I invited her, remember? It can’t be much fun for Martina, having golf-mad parents and being dragged from hotel to hotel. I bet she has to spend lots of time by herself. I’m relying on you to make sure she has a good time with us. Right?’

  ‘I s’pose,’ Gary mumbled. He didn’t sound convinced.

  I don’t mind being by myself. No one needs to feel sorry for me! Martina thought, a bit peeved. She liked being able to order stuff from room service and watch TV for hours on end. And it wasn’t as if she was a baby – in two days’ time, she’d be nine years old.

  The boat was passing a steep cliff face and big clouds of seabirds circled overhead. Others were swooping down on to narrow ledges. Their loud cries were deafening.

  Martina wrinkled her nose. ‘Phew! What’s that terrible smell?’

  ‘Seabird colonies all smell like that,’ Gary informed her over his shoulder. ‘It’s a mixture of fish, bird poo and rotten eggs. Lovely!’

  Uncle Andrew turned to grin at her. ‘You’ll get used to it. After a while you’ll hardly notice.’

  ‘Oh great! Death by pong!’ Martina groaned.

  Unexpectedly, Gary laughed.

  Martina struggled to stop herself smiling back. He looked much nicer when he was laughing, but she had to remember that he was still very annoying. She hoped that he might turn out to be friendlier once they were on the island.

  Minutes later, they reached a small wooden landing stage. Uncle Andrew moored the boat and then Gary led the way up some stone steps.

  Martina felt relieved as she reached firm ground at last. But as she looked round, her spirits sank into her trainers. The island was unbelievably bleak and wild-looking. Scrubby grass, low bushes and wild flowers stretched in all directions. Here and there, bare rocks poked through the thin soil.

  As they all headed towards the old lighthouse, a cold breeze stirred Martina’s short fair hair. She shivered, wishing she’d worn jeans instead of shorts and a T-shirt. But it had been a bright summer afternoon when they left.

  ‘Hurry up and follow me,’ Gary ordered. ‘See those dark clouds? There’s going to be a heck of a storm.’

  ‘Yeah, right!’ Martina muttered grumpily as he broke into a jog. He was obviously teasing her again.

  Uncle Andrew took her arm. ‘I’m afraid Gary’s right. Summer storms blow up out of nowhere along this coast. Come on, love, we need to get inside!’

  A fat raindrop plopped on to Martina’s head, followed by two more. She didn’t need telling twice. Hunching her shoulders, she dashed towards the lighthouse. They barely reached the shelter of the deep stone porch before a deafening crash of thunder rang out.

  Martina hurried gratefully through the front door into a large bare room. There was a makeshift kitchen in one corner with a wooden table and chairs. Camp beds, a suitcase and a jumble of equipment were stacked against one wall.

  Uncle Andrew produced towels from a backpack and then shrugged off his jacket before lighting a lamp and making them all hot chocolate. ‘The storm will soon die down, but I reckon the sea channel will be closed for a couple of days. You’ll be having a longer stay with us than we’d planned, Martina.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Martina stopped drying her damp hair and looked at him in horror. ‘I can’t stay here!’

  ‘Sorry it’s not posh enough for you, Your Highness,’ Gary muttered.

  ‘It’s not that.’ Martina bit her lip. ‘I’m going to miss my birthday. And Mum’s promised me a party and a big cake!’

  ‘Oh dear. I’d forgotten that. You’re nine the day after tomorrow, aren’t you?’ her uncle said sympathetically. ‘I’m really sorry, love, but it can’t be helped. No boats can travel to or from the island until we get the all-clear from the coastguard. I’ll ring the coastguard, and then phone your mum and dad to let them know.’

  Martina nodded silently as he went to get his mobile phone. This was going to be the worst birthday ever! To her horror, she felt tears pricking her eyes.

  ‘You’re not the only one who’s fed up,’ Gary said crossly. ‘What about me? I’m stuck with you!’

  Martina gave him a hard look and only just managed to stop herself saying something very rude indeed. She’d totally had enough of Gary and his mean comments. Whipping round, she opened the front door and stomped outside into the deep stone porch.

  ‘Grrr! Gary is so annoying!’ she fumed, slamming the door. ‘I wish he wasn’t my cousin!’

  She stared out at the curtain of rain that hid the island from view. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Suddenly, there was a flash of bright sea-blue light and a twinkling mist filled the porch. Martina noticed glittery drops forming and gleaming on her skin – she could have sworn they were blue and green in colour.

  ‘Oh!’ she screwed up her eyes, trying to see through the shimmer, and wondered what could be happening. As the mist cleared, something whizzed towards her on a big whoosh of sparkly air and plopped at her feet.

  Martina’s eyes widened in surprise. Looking up at her was a small bedraggled puffin.

  It gave a weak little gasp. ‘Can you help me, please?’

  Chapter Two

  Martina’s jaw dropped as she looked at the exhausted little bird in total amazement. It had smart black-and-white feathers, a colourful triangular bill and little short orange legs. She’d only ever seen puffins in books, but she was pretty sure that real live ones couldn’t speak.

  She shook her head, trying to clear away the confusion. All this sea air and upset was making her imagine things. This must be a baby puffin that had lost its way. How exciting to see one so close!

  ‘Hello there,’ she said softly, bending down. ‘Did you get swept up in that awful storm?’

  The little puffin blinked up at her with bright intelligent eyes, which looked as if they were outlined with red-and-black make-up. ‘Yes. I was returning from an important mission when I was blown off course.’

  Martina jerked back in shock. She overbalanced and sat down on her behind on the cold stone floor. ‘Ooof!’ she gasped. ‘You really can talk! How … how come?’

  ‘All magic puffins can talk. I am Splash, the youngest of the Silver Dream colony,’ the little bird with the colourful striped bill told her proudly. ‘What is your name?’

  ‘I’m … um … Martina. Martina Judd,’ she stammered, still not quite believing this was happening. It was like some weird dream. ‘I’m meant to be … erm … visiting Bird Island with my uncle and cousin. But I’m stuck here now for a couple of days because of the storm.’

  Splash dipped his head in a formal bow. ‘I am honoured to meet you, Martina.’

  ‘Um … likewise,’ Martina said, bowing her head in turn. She thought about standing up, but decided just to get to her knees, so that she wouldn’t frighten this amazing little creature away. ‘Did you say something about being on a mission?’

  Splash shifted from one short orange leg to the other. The claws of his webbed feet made a scrabbling sound on the stone floor.
‘Yes. Last night I delivered my very first dream to a human child. Now I am ready to do my duty and deliver good dreams every night. Magic puffins fly all over the world’s seas to do this.’

  ‘Wow! I never knew that dreams could be delivered or that there even were magic puffins. Where do you live?’

  ‘Silver Dream Cliffs, on a beautiful secret island that is far out to sea,’ Splash informed her. ‘Human children sometimes visit our island in their dreams. But grown-ups can never find it.’

  Martina listened, spellbound. The little puffin’s world sounded so strange and magical. Her fascination was starting to get the better of her shock. ‘I can’t imagine what a secret island must look like,’ she murmured, thinking of how bleak Bird Island was.

  ‘I will show you,’ Splash said in his gruff little sing-song voice.

  He clicked his beak and Martina felt a faint tingling in her fingertips as Splash’s feathers twinkled with sea-blue sparkles and the porch filled with more glittering swirls. Amid the mist, an image formed and Martina saw a shining island emerging from a crystal sea. It was almost too bright to look at. Tall cliffs, topped with rainbow-coloured grass and jewel-like wild flowers, glinted in the sun. Thousands of magic puffins were waddling about on the cliffs or poking their heads out of burrows.

  Everything seemed to zoom into fast-forward. Martina saw Splash gliding on the breeze above the cliffs. His feathers glowed a bright turquoise, and silvery-blue glitter streamed out behind him like a comet’s tail.

  As the mist faded, the magic puffin colony disappeared. Splash stood there as a normal-coloured puffin.

  ‘Wow! What an amazing place!’ Martina exclaimed. ‘I’m so sorry that you got lost in the storm.’

  Splash looked at her with large sad eyes. ‘I must get back. Will you help me?

  Martina’s heart went out to him. She knew exactly how it felt to be stranded somewhere you didn’t want to be. ‘Of course I’ll help you. What do I have to do?’