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Pull the Dragon's Tooth! (Geronimo Stilton Micekings #3)




  Welcome to the Ancient

  Far North . . . and the

  World of the Micekings!

  WHERE THEY LIVE: Miceking Island

  CAPITAL: Mouseborg, home of the Stiltonord family

  OTHER VILLAGES: Oofadale, village of the Oofa Oofas, and Feargard,

  village of the vilekings

  CLIMATE: Cold, cold, cold, especially when the icy north wind blows!

  TYPICAL FOOD: Gloog, a superstinky but fabumouse stew. The secret

  recipe is closely guarded by the wife of the miceking chief.

  NATIONAL DRINK: Finnbrew, made of equal parts codfish juice and

  herring juice, with a splash of squid ink

  MEANS OF TRANSPORTATION: The drekar, a light but very fast ship

  GREATEST HONOR: The miceking helmet. It is only earned when a

  mouse performs an act of courage or wins a Miceking Challenge.

  UNIT OF MEASUREMENT: A mouseking tail (full tail, half tail, third tail,

  quarter tail)

  ENEMIES: The terrible dragons who live in Beastgard

  Meet the Stiltonord Family . . .

  GERONIMO

  Advisor

  to

  the

  miceking chief

  THEA

  A

  horse trainer who

  works

  well with all

  kinds

  of

  animals

  TRAP

  The

  most

  famouse

  inventor

  in

  Mouseborg

  BENJAMIN

  Geronimo’s

  nephew

  BUGSILDA

  Benjamin’s

  best

  friend

  . . . and the Evil Dragons!

  GOBBLER THE

  PUTRID

  The

  fierce

  king

  of

  the

  dragons

  is

  a

  Devourer!

  The dragons are

  divided into 5

  clans, all of which

  are terrifying!

  1. Devourers

  They love to eat micekings raw —

  no cooking necessary.

  2. Steamers

  They grab micekings, then fly over

  volcanoes so the steam and smoke make them taste good.

  SIZZLE

  The

  cook

  3. Biters

  Before eating micekings, they nibble

  them delicately to see if they like

  them or not.

  4. Slurpers

  They wrap their long tongues around

  micekings and slurp them up.

  5. Rinsers

  As soon as they catch micekings,

  they rinse them in a stream to wash

  them off.

  Copyright © 2014 by Edizioni Piemme S.p.A., Palazzo Mondadori, Via Mondadori 1, 20090 Segrate, Italy. International Rights © Atlantyca S.p.A. English translation © 2016 by Atlantyca S.p.A.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  GERONIMO STILTON names, characters, and related indicia are copyright, trademark, and exclusive license of Atlantyca S.p.A. All rights reserved. The moral right of the author has been asserted. Based on an original idea by Elisabetta Dami. www.geronimostilton.com

  Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered

  trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  Stilton is the name of a famous English cheese. It is a registered trademark of the Stilton Cheese Makers’ Association. For more information, go to www.stiltoncheese.com.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, please contact Atlantyca S.p.A., Via Leopardi 8, 20123 Milan, Italy; e-mail foreignrights@

  atlantyca.it, www.atlantyca.com.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-03559-9

  Text by Geronimo Stilton

  Original title Toglilo tu, il dente al dragante!

  Cover by Giuseppe Facciotto (pencils) and Flavio Ferron (ink and color)

  Illustrations by Giuseppe Facciotto (pencils) and Alessandro Costa (ink and

  color)

  Graphics by Chiara Cebraro

  Special thanks to Tracey West

  Translated by Julia Heim

  Interior design by Kay Petronio

  First printing 2016

  What’s the Big

  Secret?

  It was a calm summer evening in

  Mouseborg, the capital village of

  Miceking Island. The sun was setting over

  the mountains, and a fresh breeze blew

  across my fur. I whistled as I walked home.

  Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. My

  name is Geronimo Stiltonord, and I am

  a mouseking!

  As I walked, two young rodents RACED

  past me: my nephew Benjamin and his best

  friend, Bugsilda.

  “It’s so exciting!” said Benjamin.

  “Yes, it’s really exciting!” agreed

  Bugsilda.

  1

  What’s the Big Secret?

  “What’s so exciting?” I called out as

  they raced past.

  “Oh, nothing,” replied Benjamin, and they

  ran away, giggling.

  HOW STRANGE!

  Next I passed the hut of Copper Ironpaws,

  the village blacksmith.

  Hee,

  hee!

  He

  doesn’t

  know

  a

  thing!

  Where

  are

  you

  going?

  What’s the Big Secret?

  “It’s so exciting!” Copper was saying

  to another mouseking.

  His customer glanced at me. “Shh, he’s

  coming.”

  I marched up to them. “What’s so exciting?”

  “Oh, nothing,” the mouse said quickly.

  “You must have heard wrong.”

  HOW

  VERY

  STRANGE!

  Oh, nothing.

  Hee,

  hee!

  What’s

  exciting?

  What’s the Big Secret?

  I was almost at my hut when I saw a

  group of micekings talking very quietly.

  My cousin Trap, the village inventor, was

  among them.

  “Careful, it’s him!” I heard Trap whisper

  as I got near.

  The micekings scattered, chuckling.

  HOW

  VERY,

  VERY, STRANGE!

  But . . .

  Hee,

  hee,

  hee

  What
’s the Big Secret?

  “Trap, what is happening?” I

  asked. “Why is it that every time I show

  up somewhere, everyone stops talking and

  giggles?”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Cousin,”

  Trap said. “There’s nothing going on. Tee,

  hee!”

  I was starting to become annoyed. “Fine!

  I don’t care about your little secrets

  anyway!”

  Then I stomped into my hut and settled in

  for what I hoped would be a relaxing

  night. I prepared a delicious pot of hot

  cheese soup and was about to

  dig in when someone knocked on my door.

  5

  A Surprise for Me

  My sister, Thea, was outside the door.

  “Geronimo, open up!” she called out.

  “Have you come to laugh at me, too?” I

  yelled through the door. “I am tired of all

  these secrets!”

  “Don’t be a codfish,” Thea said. “Open

  the door!”

  “No, no, no!”

  I said stubbornly.

  I am

  fed

  up!

  A Surprise for Me

  I heard Thea sigh. “Oh, all right. But then

  I’ll have to tell Sven that you REFUSED to

  come out of your hut. I warned you.”

  I jumped up. “Sven the Shouter wants

  me? Our village leader? Why didn’t you

  say that before?”

  I hurried to open the door. Thea entered

  and grabbed a hunk of bread from my table.

  “Sven ordered us not to tell you

  anything so we wouldn’t ruin the surprise,”

  she explained.

  My whiskers trembled with excitement. “A

  surprise?

  For me? What is it? A new

  goatskin blanket? A precious scroll? A

  big chunk of Stenchberg cheese?” My mouth

  watered at the thought of it.

  I was so

  curious

  I was practically jumping

  out of my fur!

  Then we heard noises outside. “That must

  7

  A Surprise for Me

  be the others,” Thea said.

  “Others? What others?” I asked. “I’m

  not expecting anyone.”

  But Thea ignored me and opened the door.

  A sea of micekings invaded! They

  made themselves COMFORTABLE

  right away. They

  sat

  on my chairs. They

  bounced

  on my bed. They ate all

  Make way!

  Make

  room

  for

  me!

  I’m

  coming!

  Squeak!

  What’s

  happening?

  A Surprise for Me

  my bread and drank my cheese soup!

  My humble home now held every rodent

  in Mouseborg!

  “Great groaning glaciers!” I yelled. “What

  is everyone doing here?”

  Right at that moment, Sven the Shouter

  stepped in. He pounded me on the

  back with his paw.

  Watch out!

  Move it!

  They’re here!

  A Surprise for Me

  “I have gathered all the micekings here in

  your hut, you smarty-mouseking!” he

  thundered.

  I nodded nervously.

  “I need to make an IMPORTANT

  announcement!” Sven said. “Max

  Musclepaw,

  the great-great-great-grandson of the

  legendary Moki Musclepaw, has

  arrived in Mouseborg!”

  I’ve got

  quite

  a

  surprise

  for

  you!

  Ouch!

  A Surprise for Me

  The micekings let out a cheer.

  “Hooray

  for

  max

  musclepaw!”

  Hooray for the mouseking hero who has

  earned 1,753 MICEKING HELMETS!”

  Shivering squids! That’s a lot of miceking

  helmets, the highest honor of the micekings!

  “Is the surprise that Max is here?”

  I asked. “What does that have to do with

  me?”

  Sven gave me a piercing stare.

  “It has everything to do with you, you

  shrimpsnout! I asked

  Max Musclepaw

  to

  come back to make YOU into a true macho

  mouseking!”

  11

  Is This the Little

  Shrimp

  I’m Supposed

  to Train?

  Sven LOOKED me up and down, from

  the tips of my whiskers to the end of my tail.

  Then he frowned.

  “A true macho mouseking needs muscles!”

  he barked. “You are as

  squishy

  as

  a jellyfish!”

  A glacial chill ran down my spine.

  Sven continued. “So I have decided that

  you need a special trainer!”

  “so

  says

  sven

  the

  shouter!”

  the micekings cheered.

  “Well said, oh fearless leader!” my cousin

  12

  Is This the Little Shrimp?

  Trap chimed in.

  I

  scowled

  at Trap,

  but he kept talking.

  “Either you have

  muscles or you don’t,

  and I have plenty,” Trap

  said, flexing his meaty (but

  not very muscly) arm. “But

  you, Cousin, are as soft as

  Have

  you

  seen

  these

  muscles?

  a ball of mozzarella!”

  “Wise words!” Sven the Shouter

  agreed. “Trap, I order you to also participate

  in the special training so you can show

  Geronimo how a macho mouseking trains!”

  Trap tried to protest. “Um, well, that

  wouldn’t be fair to the other micekings,

  would it?” he asked.

  “Yes, why can’t we train, too?” the other

  micekings asked.

  13

  Is This the Little Shrimp?

  Taking advantage of the CONFUSION,

  I tried to quickly slip out of there. I was a

  whisker away from the exit, when . . . the

  door swung open and hit me right

  in the snout!

  Helmets and herring, that hurt!

  “Geronimo, where are you going?”

  Are

  you

  leaving?

  Ouch!

  Is This the Little Shrimp?

  I looked up to see Thora, Sven’s

  charming daughter!

  “Well I . . . I j-just remembered I have

  something important to do!” I stuttered.

  Then the door swung open

  (again!).

  “Geronimo, let me introduce you to

  Max

  Musclepaw,

  the great miceking hero!” Thora

  said.

  This is Max

  Musclepaw!

  Hey there!

  He’s

  enormouse!

  Is This the Little Shrimp?

  So there I stood, gazing up at the tallest

  and most muscled mouseking I

  had ever seen! He was as big as a block of

  stone — no, as a

&nb
sp; boulder — no,

  as a whole mountain!

  He looked me up and down.

  “IS

  THIS

  THE

  LITTLE

  SHRIMP

  I’M

  SUPPOSED

  TO

  TRAIN?”

  he asked. “His tiny bones won’t be crushed,

  will they?”

  “Ha! A bit of hard work never hurt

  anyone,” boomed Sven. “And, to make

  everyone happy, I have decided that

  Crusher,

  Smasher, and

  Sprainer

  will participate in the

  training, too.”

  At those words, three strong micekings

  made their way through the crowd.

  One by one they approached me, yelling:

  16

  I’ll

  crush

  you!

  “I’m going to

  Crush

  you!”

  “I’m going to Smash

  you!”

  “I’m going to

  SPRAIN

  your tail!”

  I’ll smash

  you!

  I’ll sprain

  you!

  WHY,

  WHY,

  WHY

  DOES

  EVERYTHING

  HAPPEN

  TO

  ME?

  You’re Hopeless,

  You

  Smarty-

  Mouseking!

  “Get out of bed, shrimp!” Max

  Musclepaw yelled early the next morning as

  he dumped a bucket of freezing water

  on me.

  “B-but, it’s still dark outside!” I squeaked.

  But this muscled hero didn’t want to hear

  it. “A

  true macho mouseking

  gets

  up every day at dawn and starts to RUN,

  RUN,

  RUN!” he bellowed.

  I reluctantly got out of bed, yawning

  like a bear just waking from hibernation.

  “Can’t we at least have breakfast?” I asked.

  Max gave me a strange smile. “Pack all

  18

  You’re Hopeless!

  the food that you want in your bag. We will

  bring it with us to Three Lookouts Cliff.”

  SQUEAK! I was already hungry. I

  wanted to protest, but then I decided it

  was better to do what he said. (Have I

  mentioned that Max is

  very tall

  and

  very muscled?)

  So I took the bag and stuffed it

  with:

  22 eggs,

  ✔

  16

  slices of