The Phantom Pie Thief of Pastry Castle 🥧👻

How do you catch a ghost who craves a good crumble?

How do you catch a ghost who craves a good crumble?

It all started with the disappearance of the Queen’s “Cloudberry Crumble with a Whisper of Honeydew” pie. Not just any pie, mind you — it was a legendary confection, a recipe passed down through generations of royal pastry chefs, with each bite said to inspire dreams of sunshine and sugar plums. So, needless to say, when the Queen’s personal pastry chef found an empty pie dish, instead of the usual delightful crumbles, he practically fainted dead away.

Word spread through Pastry Castle faster than a whisper through a windy bakery. “Who stole the Queen’s pie?” echoed from the highest turrets to the deepest dungeons, each room buzzing with worry and gossip. “Oh dear,” sighed a little old ghost with a feather boa draped over his bony shoulder, as he floated past the royal kitchens, “Poor Queen. The last time her favorite pastry was stolen, she turned the Royal Chef into a babbling, sugar-coated squirrel. Quite a sight it was, I tell you!”

This, of course, alarmed everyone, but especially Barnaby, the youngest wizard apprentice at the royal court. He wasn’t a particularly impressive wizard yet, but he had a nose for trouble (and a bit of a sweet tooth), making him perfectly suited for this predicament.

Barnaby’s problem was, he couldn’t do much on his own. His magic often had a mind of its own, tending to produce more smoke than spectacular results. Fortunately, Barnaby was close pals with Horace, the ghost-in-residence. Horace wasn’t a scary ghost — he was a friendly soul, albeit a bit loud (he tended to have conversations with the tapestries and make ghost-jokes that were always best heard in hushed whispers).

“Barnaby,” said Horace, appearing as if by magic beside the apprentice wizard one sunny afternoon as Barnaby practiced a particularly simple levitation spell. His levitating feather was drifting closer to the ceiling than Barnaby intended. “You look as though you’ve swallowed a burnt custard tart!”

“Well, Horace,” groaned Barnaby, his spell going horribly awry, with the feather spiraling out of control and leaving a trail of charred soot. “The Queen’s pie was stolen. And it’s just not fair! That cloudberry crumble was practically a masterpiece!”

“Oh, dear, oh dear,” sighed Horace, “I’ll bet that the Queen is on the verge of a royal temper tantrum. I remember the last time… she actually had a spell contest amongst the chefs to bake the perfect blueberry biscuit… which led to an unfortunate incident with the King and a flock of flying gingerbread men. Never could have imagined the King would enjoy dancing with those little gingerbread guys. They wouldn’t stop bowing!” Horace giggled, his feather boa shimmering. “But the King’s a good sport.”

“You wouldn’t know a ‘good sport’ if one hit you upside the head with a sugar plum,” mumbled Barnaby, the feather finally landing on top of his head, making him look like he’d tried to conjure up a bird. “This isn’t about gingerbread, Horace. This is a serious situation. We have to find the pie thief! Before they try to steal her “Cranberry Tart with a Hint of Caramel” next. It wouldn’t be good. They say the last time…”

Barnaby stopped himself. “The last time, what?” Horace chuckled, floating closer to Barnaby, “Now, why are you making your spell look so flustered?”

Barnaby frowned. He realized his magic often acted up when he was nervous. “Well, there was…well, you remember when…” he whispered.

“Yes, yes, dear Barnaby,” said Horace with a wave of his shimmering hand, “We can’t keep rehashing the past. This time, we need to think like a pie thief, don’t you think?” He raised his eyebrows, “Oh, this sounds like a case for “The Ghosts and Goblins Club.” It’s all very secret…you see… we find lost treasures and things, we catch up on things, help souls, well, things like that.” He paused dramatically. “This time…well, there’s no one as eager for pie as a ghost.”

The Ghost and Goblins Club was comprised of a collection of chatty ghosts, curious sprites, and a couple of grumpy but surprisingly helpful goblins (who’d been sent from Gringotts for a special sort of magic retraining — to learn to use brooms and spells). Barnaby was a bit intimidated by these strange, secretive beings but they seemed to be delighted to join a quest to catch a pie thief, and the plan, they agreed, was to track the phantom foodie using an enchanted tracker…a magic gingerbread crumb that they’d left next to the missing pie dish.

It was quite simple, really — follow the magical crumb wherever it went, or should we say, “Wherever it fluttered”! They found their way to the abandoned gardens of the castle, and in a flurry of magical dust, discovered the crumbs were now nestled amongst the petals of a large rose bush, with the most beautiful, deep crimson blooms they had ever seen! It seems our pie thief wasn’t entirely without charm.

Then a spooky little voice chimed in: “Ah, good afternoon, chaps.” There stood the ghost of Lady Constance, former royal pastry chef, known for her infamous “Dragonfruit Delight” — quite literally the best pie anyone ever made, but also the reason Lady Constance now lingered in this world…well, long story.

“That scent!” She said with a ghost of a sniff. “It’s…raspberry rose-bud jam. I just couldn’t help but bake a few extra for the Queen. I was a tad hungry, and well, you know…” Lady Constance whispered conspiratorially, “After centuries of haunting the kitchens, there’s no pie that can resist me!”

Ready for some pie-tastic adventure? Give this story a clap and follow for more enchanting tales from the Castle!