Tanya Grotter and the Golden Leech

“YAGUN! Knock it off right now, or I…” someone began to yell in a terrible voice. Immediately after this a whistle and a deafening slap was heard.

Aunt Ninel shuddered and just in case pulled her head into her shoulders, although clearly no one was advancing on her personally.

“Just now you observed an attempt to ram the playing commentator with a Storm-100U vacuum. A pitiful, deceitful, and meaningless attempt, I hasten to add!” Bab-Yagun continued as if nothing had happened. “I, with the astuteness characteristic of me, always maintain: this powerful machine does not have sufficient manoeuvrability and it hinders disgustingly. They are carefully digging Damien out of the sand at present, and again put him back up on the vacuum. I’m certain this trivial incident will in no way affect his future play. In order to get a concussion, one must – hee-hee! – have something to shock.

“Number three – Katya Lotkova, Defence. A Dirt vacuum, with likable talismans and little funky foxes dangling. Lotkova has finally gotten rid of her dark glasses, and Dentistikha also, by the way! Hurray! This means that Sardanapal and Medusa were able to remove the extremely unpleasant evil eye virus, which made their pupils glow!

“Seven-Stump-Holes, number four, outstanding forward and outstanding comrade. True, he can change into an otter in the heat of the moment, but indeed it can’t be helped.

“Number five. With pride, I present Rita On-The-Sly and her guitar with a trailer of the Dinghy-Reagent model. Yes, an uncommon instrument, I agree. I see, the fans of the gandharvas mockingly exchange glances, but here you’re wrong, respected half-turk… half-bird! By the way, our Rita is called the most unpredictable player of the Tibidox team. Even Nightingale O. Robber does not know what she will do in the next moment.

“Number six – half-back Kuzya Tuzikov on his unfailing jet broom. See how he vibrates his broom – it also rushes into battle. They say foreign magicians recently proposed to give any three brooms for it, but we proudly refused them: indeed their brooms are of an industrial spell, and our broom – native stock! By the way, it began as the most common broom in the most common home of the moronoids. It swept simply awfully and irritated its masters greatly. Moreover, its exceptional capabilities for high-speed displacement were suddenly revealed. The frightened moronoids threw it into the dumpster, from where the broom, having attached itself to a flock of ducks, independently completed the flight to Tibidox. An outstanding example of how, having talent, it is possible to make a career!

“And now attention! A replacement in the team of Tibidox. Instead of number seven, Yura Idiotsyudov, the team captain by the way, the new find of trainer Nightingale O. Robber, Coffinia Cryptova is playing! Idiotsyudov got a serious injury and is now in magic station. It is never worthwhile to tease a dragon, even if it is merely Mercury. Coffinia appears on a vacuum of the model Swine-Sportage. Automatic gearbox, sliding pipe, fuelled by mermaid scales, barabashka dandruff, or discarded snake skins. See how the Swine-Sportage is lovingly decorated with wreaths and shinbones! Interesting, why? Her usual black humour or does she intend to throw the bones at the players of the opposition? A fresh thought, only it’s unlikely you will frighten them with these. For Coffinia’s information, the gandharvas by no means live on dried apricots.

“Number eight… khm… Bab-Yagun, the playing commentator. I would even add ‘the magnificently playing,’ but to praise oneself – it’s indeed petty. Should you be busy with something during the match? Only please do not forget to direct your binoculars at me.

“Number nine – Liza Zalizina, the diving cuckoo clock. Most inexplicable that for some reason the clock just flies whereas the cuckoo only pecks, true, with aim…”

Bab-Yagun caught his breath and, after a pause, roared doubly louder, “And finally, number ten! The queen of flight! The pride of Tibidox! The courageous champ over the babai and She-Who-Is-No-More! Mistress of the luxurious magic double bass of the work of her great-grandfather Theophilus! I’m shaking all over with excitement pronouncing this name! Tatiana Grotter!!!”

The stadium exploded with applause. Aunt Ninel, greedily listening to the play-by-play flowing out of the garbage can, first turned grey, then grew red, and suddenly issued this deafening howl, which cracked the glass on the balcony. Staff General Cutletkin in the adjacent apartment fell off his chair and bruised his tailbone.

“Grotter! Again Tanya Grotter! She’s everywhere, I beg you! Shoot me so that I’d not suffer!” Durneva began to wail. She jumped out onto the stairs and, having looked around in a cowardly manner, tipped the can into the rubbish chute. With the noise of the applause howling, “Hurray! Long live Grotter, number ten!” the bow fragments tore along down the pipe together with Tanya’s other things. Pressing the empty garbage can against her chest, Aunt Ninel returned to the apartment and, smiling crazily at some unknown and probably invisible person, she hurriedly locked all the locks and bolts. Only after putting the last chain into the groove did this responsible woman allow herself to slip into a deep faint…

Chapter 2

A Crafty Lute and Dozens of Bonegrafts

The for-life and posthumous head of Tibidox, Academician Sardanapal Chernomorov, finally knew how to catch his playful moustaches and tie them in a knot at the back of his head. He winked smartly at Medusa, got up, and raised his hand. Several thousand fans froze in expectation. Two orange signal sparks tore away from the ancient ring of the Sovereign of Spirits, buzzed over the main dragonball stadium of Buyan Island, and deafeningly exploded.

The Gandharva-Tibidox match had begun.

Tanya hurriedly uttered Speedus envenomus, waved her bow, and took off, as always with pleasure sensing the resilient air resistance. The strings of the double bass impatiently hummed. The warm wood of the instrument trembled, almost alive. Here it is, excitement, anticipation of a match not yet begun!

To the right and left, on top and below, bending over their instruments, other players of the Tibidox team fuss. Here is Yagun, rattling something into the silver mouthpiece, deftly moving from hand to hand the pipe of his vacuum. Here is the beauty Katya Lotkova on the Dirt vacuum repairing talismans. Here is Zhora Zhikin trembling on the sneezing mop with a propeller, simultaneously showing off in front of female admirers. Here is Coffinia, clearly preoccupied with staying on the Swine-sportage. And who is there above? Aha, Liza Zalizina, with an offended look, blows on her finger and with a fist threatens her cuckoo for pecking her.

But the gandharvas were already flickering in front, first gaining altitude, then swiftly diving downward, indistinguishable from each other for the unaccustomed eye. Some of them, clearly teasing the Tibidox players, with an air of detachment strummed on their three-stringed lutes; others soared, catching oncoming air streams with their wings. Their powerful sharp-clawed paws were decorated with long colourful ribbons.

The gates of the Northern hangar were thrown open. Following puffs of smoke and long tongues of flames, a hostile dragon shot forward. Tanya looked narrowly at it and it made her ill at ease. Moreover, it immediately became understandable why the gandharvas hid it so thoroughly and allowed no one into the hangar.

In looks this was a typical Eastern dragon – with golden scales, a lean body flexible like a snake, many bone plates and complex growths on the scales, long whiskers and somewhat dull teeth, among which perhaps only the four jutting out canine teeth were frightening. The claws were strong, the feet powerful, but no stronger nor more powerful than, say, those of Flying Meatball, the dragon of the babai.

No, the advantage of the Indian dragon was not in this. Quick, invincible, it moved around above the field and fired long tongues of flame like daggers at the Tibidox players. And what a flame this was, Tanya realized when the scorching fiery jet, shot from the huge distance of the field, suddenly singed her hair and the dry heat burned her cheek.

Ff-sh-sh-shuh!

Yelling, the young Grotter waved her bow and threw her double bass to the side. Good that the flame was spent, and also the vampire bile, which she had the foresight to put on, saved her from serious burn. And this was at the very beginning of the match, when the balls were not even released!

“Oh, my granny mama! What’s happening!” exclaimed a wonder-struck Bab-Yagun. “The gandharvas brought with them a true winged flamethrower! Likely, there remains not a single safe place in the field. Minutes have not yet passed since the beginning of the match and Tanya Grotter has already received an annoying burn! Seven-Stump-Holes has a melted pipe, and Kuzya Tuzikov was forced to resort to the aid of water-sprites in order to put out the flame on his jet broom! Now I understand why the gandharvas call their dragon Spitter! And I, a fool, even intended to look in the dictionary! But when are they finally releasing the balls? Does Sardanapal really want his team to become flying shashlik even before the match?”

On hearing the challenge of Bab-Yagun, the academician stopped contemplating his beard and waved his hand. “Where are the balls? Really it’s impossible to figure things out without me?” he shouted angrily.

Two genie-referees, looking askance with uneasiness at the hungry dragons, carried out the basket and, having pulled off the cover, rushed fleeing. Five magic balls of different weight and colour – flame-extinguisher, stun, pepper, sneeze, and immobilize – obeying the magic placed in them, soared into the sky and with the ballet grace of overfed bumblebees scattered along the entire field.

Simultaneously twenty players – ten from Tibidox and ten gandharvas – rushed to the balls, hurrying to seize the initiative from the first minutes of the match.

The dragons began to roar furiously and, whipping with their tails, advancing a smoke screen all around, ascended under the dome. Having served as “goals” in many matches, they had long since understood that the magic balls gave one trouble, especially when they appeared in one’s mouth. But to swallow a couple of the opposition’s forwards was an entirely different matter. The hungry dragons had nothing against this.

“An outstanding start to the game!” Bab-Yagun exclaimed enthusiastically. “What a tight battle for the balls! Damien Goryanov is already pressing against his chest the stun ball, which he intercepted from under the nose of the gandharva forward Mamarama. Here he indeed did not expect such agility from anyone! Smart, Damien, I for some reason was confident that they wouldn’t let you keep the ball!

“But what’s that there? And this must be seen! Seven-Stump-Holes rushes after an escaping pepper ball. Immediately two gandharvas – Ramapapa and Jelly-Backbone – are at his heels! Oh, my granny mama, if you dreamt about this Backbone, you would fall off the bed! Broad as an ox, the crushed ears of a wrestler, and a broken nose! Two hundred dystrophic persons compressed into a single jock! Seven-Stump-Holes literally clings to the pepper ball, but Ramapapa roughly shoves him with his lute. That’s right, you saw it: using an ancient instrument like an ordinary club! A disgrace! Really, will Sardanapal not interfere? He did, the whistle blows! Hurray! A penalty! A outstanding possibility to open score!”

Bab-Yagun triumphantly shot up on his turbo-vacuum of the seven-hundred series and, tilting the pipe, fixed himself at the centre of the fields, where he could see better.

“Strange! Very strange!” his voice began to be heard from there. “I for some reason thought that the gandharvas would protest against the penalty! Nothing of the kind! Without getting involved in a debate, they somehow very willingly catch their dragon Spitter and by a special spell force it to open its mouth.

“Seven-Stump-Holes prepares himself for the penalty throw from the eleven-metre line. Stump appears puzzled. Likely, he suspects that something is not kosher here! Nevertheless, he takes aim and… Outstanding hit! Launched by the steady hand of Seven-Stump-Holes, the ball flies exactly into the dragon’s mouth, but Spitter swiftly moves aside and gives it a push with its nose! The ball flies directly into the hands of half-back Lakshaman, who passes it to Mamarama…

“The game continues! The gandharvas energetically attack Goyaryn, covering it from all sides! So here is what their crafty plan consists of! Having a dragon that knows how to return balls with its nose, they, not fearing penalties, can allow themselves a rough game! Goyaryn meets the gandharvas with solid fire and slams shut its mouth, not allowing them to throw in a ball. Zhora Zhikin and Katya Lotkova stand by Goyaryn on top, not letting the ‘birds’ enter the ‘dead zone’ where the eyes of the dragon cannot make them out.”

While the gandharvas, distracting the defence, were circling around Goyaryn, a not less fierce fight was developing in the opposite part of the field. Tanya, whose cheek was still burning with pain, battled with the gandharva forward Grouser-Aga for the immobilize ball. In pursuit of the ball, Grouser-Aga traced magnificent barrels in the air. Simultaneously he purposefully tried, seemingly casually, to lash at Tanya’s eyes with his wings. Forcing herself not to answer this obvious provocation, Tanya pressed her chest against the double bass and, stretching out like an arrow, tried to pick the moment to seize the ball that was slipping away.

“The young Grotter has good endurance!” Medusa Gorgonova, the docent of the department of evil spirits studies, said encouragingly, turning to Tararakh.

The pithecanthropus angrily shook his enormous hand overgrown with thick reddish hair to the fingers. “Yes, she’s a smart one. Plays simply brilliant! But someone must put the gandharvas in an inconvenient position! They will maim all of ours! See, he lashes directly at the eyes!” he shouted.

“How would you put them in an inconvenient position? It’s not even possible to call a penalty for this offence. Hitting with wings is not considered a rough play. Even Sardanapal can’t find fault with this – outwardly everything is according to the rules,” Medusa said despondently.

The gandharva trainer Kashavara glanced sideways at Gorgonova and complacently slapped himself on the stomach. It seemed he understood Russian perfectly, although he also preferred to pretend to be a fool.

Noticing that the immobilize ball had glided away in the air, Tanya swiftly swung about and rushed to head it off. She nearly succeeded in grabbing it, but here Grouser-Aga, swooping from above, struck her face with his wing. The girl blinked from surprise, saving her eyes, and when she opened them again, the gandharva already had the ball, hurrying with it to Goyaryn.

An indignant Tanya waved her bow and, having gathered height, dashed to ram Grouser-Aga with the double bass, but here the match was suddenly stopped by the chief umpire. Someone from the opposition, it seemed, Lakshaman, was clutching the hair of Damien Goryanov, trying to take the stun ball away from him.

“Again a penalty! Spitter unwillingly opens its mouth, and the gandharvas, sarcastically smirking, line up all around. It goes without saying, they again hope to catch the rebound!” Bab-Yagun chattered away.

Damien Goryanov forced the vacuum to buzz in the air, screwed up his right eye, swung widely and put all his strength into the throw…

The Tibidox trainer Nightingale O. Robber began to moan and held his head. The stands started to shout with laughter. Yes, you do not see that often!

“What a hit!” the lop-eared grandson of Yagge exclaimed to the entire stadium. “I have in mind that only our adorable Goryanov could throw such a curve ball! Spitter perplexedly begins to slam shut its mouth, understanding that indeed somehow a ball won’t exactly turn up in it. The stun projectile describes an arc in the air and – falls directly onto the nose of the gandharva forward Mamarama.

“TRA-TA-RA-TA-TA!

“The magic enclosed in the ball is freed and for a moment wraps the forward in a lilac cloud! Mamarama begins to giggle foolishly and, accompanying himself on the lute, briskly strikes up the Indian folk song In the field a tea bush was standing! Say what you want, but stun magic, on top of that at the dose for a dragon, – not some cup of coffee on an empty stomach!

“Joining their comrade in singing, Lakshaman and Jelly-Backbone carefully lead the cheered up Mamarama from the field. The gandharva clings to them and climbs to hug them. It’s clear he will not be playing in this match… Interesting, is this counted as a goal for us or not? After all, the throw was sufficiently effective, although the ball did not fall into the dragon… What? I can’t believe my eyes! Sardanapal has assigned a penalty to Tibidox! And now this is indeed an outrage! Indeed, it’s clear to everyone that Goryanov struck Mamarama not with any malicious intent, but only as a result of a congenital squint! And no need to look at me unfavourably, Damien, I speak the truth and only the truth!” Bab-Yagun shouted.