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Lost Empire of Koomba

Tony Abbott




  Title Page

  Dedication

  1: The Riddle in the Smoke

  2: A Really Good Library

  3: The Sandwiches There

  4: At the Crossroads

  5: Below the Sand

  6: About a Boy

  7: The Face of Fazool!

  8: Krazy Kantina!

  9: The Great Mask Mystery

  10: The Way Up and Out

  The Adventure Continues …

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Crunch … crunch … slurp … crunch …

  “Try to be quiet, Neal,” whispered Julie. “You’ll wake the Hinkles.”

  “Sorry,” said Neal, licking his lips. “It’s hard to resist free food.”

  Crunch … slurp …

  Neal had plucked a ripe apple off the tree outside their friend Eric’s bedroom window.

  It was an hour before dawn, and Julie and Neal were high in the branches of the tree. Once they’d sneaked in Eric’s window, they hoped to slip down to his basement without his parents seeing them.

  Neal had woken Julie earlier to say that he’d dreamed of giant drifts of green snow. Green snow could mean only one thing.

  They were being called back to Droon.

  “Tell me again,” whispered Neal. “Why aren’t we using the door?”

  “Because I unlocked the window yesterday when I pretended to be Eric,” Julie said.

  Julie had the power to change shape. She’d pretended to be Eric because he was trapped in Droon — and because she didn’t want his parents to worry.

  “The door would have been so much easier,” Neal sighed.

  “The Hinkles lock the door at night,” said Julie, reaching for another branch. “Now, hush!”

  As she drew closer to the window, Julie thought about how much she loved that tree. It was the same tree they had all gotten stuck in way back in kindergarten. Eric’s mother had had to come rescue them.

  If it hadn’t been for the hour spent in those branches, Julie might not have become Eric’s close friend. If she hadn’t become his friend, she might not have been in his basement when the magical staircase to Droon was discovered. And if she’d never discovered Droon, she would certainly not have gained magical powers.

  Magical powers!

  That also happened in a tree.

  But not this one.

  It was high in the treetops of the Bangledorn Forest that Julie was scratched on the hand by a wicked creature called a wingwolf. The scratch had hurt at the time, but Julie later discovered that it had passed both wingwolf powers to her: She could fly and change her shape.

  Crunch … crunch …

  “It’s a little sour,” Neal said.

  “And a little loud,” said Julie. “Shhh!”

  Pausing just below Eric’s window, Julie wondered what she always wondered: Would her powers help them in Droon that day?

  She hoped so, because Droon certainly needed help.

  In a fierce attack directed at Galen the wizard, Eric had been poisoned by an ice dagger. That was bad enough. But the terrible moon dragon, Gethwing, had used Eric’s illness to transform him into Prince Ungast, a wicked boy sorcerer who joined Gethwing’s Crown of Wizards, the greatest alliance of evil in the history of Droon.

  Eric was still alive, deep inside Prince Ungast, but he was fading fast. Even worse was the fact that Gethwing’s armies were gathering for a massive attack on Jaffa City.

  Five days, Eric had told their friend Princess Keeah. I can hold them off for five days. Bring me the Moon Medallion. It’s the only way to save Droon. If you can’t … then it’s over.

  The Moon Medallion was a device of unspeakable power. Julie knew that plans were under way to bring it to Eric.

  Pausing to steady herself, she looked out at their sleeping neighborhood. I can hold them off. Eric’s words were brave, but she knew that he was locked in the greatest struggle of his life.

  But there was something else preying on Julie’s mind as she scanned the houses and streets. Only hours before, a trio of strange, silent creatures known as the Hunters had ascended the magic stairs. Now they were out there somewhere.

  What were they hunting for? Or whom?

  “Okay, one more branch,” she whispered.

  Reaching up to the top limb, Julie felt her fingers slip. “Owww!”

  A twig flicked her hand, scratching it.

  All at once, her breath caught in her throat. Her ears burned. Her heart thumped. Her head swam. “Neal, I —”

  To stop everything spinning around her, she closed her eyes.

  And she was no longer outside Eric’s house. She was in a place filled with swirling purple smoke, a fog of violet so thick she could barely see.

  A shape moved in the smoke. It was large and cloaked and stepped toward her awkwardly. The smoke parted, and she saw the figure’s face.

  It was Galen! His old features were dark. He seemed troubled, uncertain, and afraid.

  He spoke in a whisper. “… stolen … no one … for a hundred years!”

  “Galen?” Julie whispered.

  A second shape now hovered behind him in the swirling smoke. “Wizard, come,” it said. “It is time….”

  The wizard shook his head over and over. “Nooooooo —”

  Was this the journey the wizard had told them he would soon be taking? Could the other figure be Anusa, Galen’s genie friend, his guide on the journey? And if it was Anusa, then why was he so troubled?

  A moment later, the purple smoke enshrouded both figures, and they were gone.

  “Galen?” said Julie. “Galen —”

  “The name is Neal!” said Neal. “And you’re in my way!”

  Suddenly, Julie was back in the apple tree.

  “Oh, my gosh!” she said. “I just had a vision. I think Galen might be in danger. Neal, I have to warn him —”

  “Ahem!” said a voice.

  Julie looked up. Five feet away, leaning out the bedroom window, was Eric’s mother, Mrs. Hinkle. “Just what do you two think you’re doing out there?”

  Neal sighed. “We are so busted.”

  Mrs. Hinkle frowned. “Get in here before you break your necks!”

  She helped them through the window and into Eric’s room. Then she searched their faces and breathed out a long, slow breath. Her eyes pooled with tears.

  “The forgetting spell,” said Julie. “You remember, don’t you?”

  Mrs. Hinkle nodded slowly. “When I saw Eric’s empty bed this morning, everything came back to me. I know your friend Keeah put a spell on me, but it faded. I know about Prince Ungast and that … dragon.”

  “Keeah said the power of love can break even the strongest spell,” said Julie.

  Mrs. Hinkle sat on the bed and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, my Eric!”

  “Mrs. H, we need to get to the basement right away,” said Neal. “Eric said Droon would fall in five days if we didn’t act fast.”

  Eric’s mother wiped her cheeks and stood. “Then I’m going with you.”

  “What?” said Neal. “Very funny, Mrs. H.”

  “It’s not a joke. I’m going,” the woman said. “He’s my son. I’m his mother. I’m going.”

  “Yeah, but …” Neal murmured.

  “I can help Eric,” his mother said. “I’m certain of it.”

  When she saw the determination in Mrs. Hinkle’s face, Julie realized they couldn’t stop her from trying to help her son. She knew how she would feel if someone tried to stop her from helping her friend. Whatever Mrs. Hinkle was feeling must be ten times that. “Well, maybe just you can go —” she said.

  The bedroom door opened, and in walked Mr. Hinkle. “Go? Go where?” he said. “Where are we going?
Wait. Where’s Eric? Eric —”

  “Dear, there’s no time to waste,” said Mrs. Hinkle. “Our son is a wizard. He’s trying to keep the land of Droon free, but he’s in trouble. Serious trouble.”

  As they explained everything, Mr. Hinkle’s face went through a dozen expressions in rapid succession — disbelief, anger, concern, sorrow, and bewilderment.

  Finally, he turned to the children.

  “Eric is a wizard?” he asked.

  “He is,” said Julie.

  “I wonder if he gets that from me,” Mr. Hinkle said. “People say I’m kind of a wizard with the hedge clippers.”

  Julie smiled. Of course, it was really a blast from Keeah that had given Eric his powers, just as it was the wingwolf scratch that gave her her abilities. But it was just like Mr. Hinkle to find the funny in a terrible situation.

  “Well, if Eric’s in trouble, then we are absolutely going to Dreen!” Mr. Hinkle said.

  “First of all, it’s Droon,” said Neal. “And you really kind of have to do what we say. I mean … please?”

  “Fair enough,” said Mrs. Hinkle. “Let’s go.”

  Moments later, they were crammed into the little closet under the basement stairs. They shut the door behind them, and Julie switched off the ceiling light.

  Whoosh!

  The floor beneath their feet vanished and became the top step of a staircase that curved through the air all the way to Droon.

  “Amazing!” said Mr. Hinkle. “Who built these steps? They’re very professional.”

  “Our friend the wizard Galen created them,” said Julie, remembering her strange vision again. He was so worried. I must tell him what I saw!

  Down and down they went, through swirling pink clouds, while Neal barked orders to the Hinkles every step of the way.

  “Not too fast. Hold on to the railing. The stairs are slick. And be careful where it curves. The stairs have a mind of their own. Also, whatever you do, don’t look down. Don’t look up, either. You’ll get dizzy.”

  “Neal, we’ve walked down stairs before,” said Mr. Hinkle.

  “Sorry. I guess I’m taking control again,” Neal said. “It’s the genie in me.”

  “You’re a genie, Neal?” said Mrs. Hinkle. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. I really like my turban,” he said.

  Soon the children spotted a vast green plain sliced by several lines of blue water.

  “Rivertangle,” said Julie. “We’ve been here before. Be careful. Beasts are everywhere.”

  “One more thing,” said Neal. “Sometimes the stairs vanish.”

  Mr. Hinkle smiled. “Now, that’s pretty clever. The stairs vanish at the bottom so that the bad guys can’t see them, right?”

  Julie stole a look at Neal. “Not always. Sometimes they disappear at other times.”

  “What other times?” asked Mrs. Hinkle.

  “Sometimes the stairs vanish before we get to the bottom,” said Neal, picking up the pace.

  Mrs. Hinkle paused. “Before? Like when?”

  “Like now,” said Neal as the steps quivered beneath their feet. “Like now. Now! NOW!”

  All at once, the rainbow stairs wobbled and wiggled and faded into the air.

  “You said to hold the railing,” said Mr. Hinkle. “But there is no railing —”

  And the two children and two parents plunged headfirst to the ground below.

  Luckily, the distance was not great, and their fall was broken by swift winds that swept upward just as they reached the ground. The little group tumbled harmlessly into the long soft grass of the river plains.

  Unluckily, there was a band of hideous snakelike beasts camping nearby.

  “Just our luck. Ugly snake guys!” whispered Neal, taking cover in the tall grass. “Do you suppose they work for you-know-who?”

  “Voldemort?” asked Mrs. Hinkle.

  “No, Gethwing,” said Julie, peering through the grass. She spotted the insignia of a crown on the beasts’ packs. “The Crown of Wizards,” she whispered. “They are part of Gethwing’s army.”

  “Maybe we can reason with them,” said Mrs. Hinkle.

  “Beasts are creatures of few words,” said Julie.

  “Mostly one word,” whispered Neal.

  All at once, the big flat head of one of the snake creatures arched up and stared in their direction. “ATTACK!” it shrieked.

  “That’s the one!” said Neal.

  As the snaky beasts leaped through the grass toward them, the kids rushed Mr. and Mrs. Hinkle to the nearest riverbank.

  “Some beasts hate water,” said Neal. “Let’s hope —”

  Alas, the scaly beasts did not hate water. No sooner had Neal and Julie dropped to the riverbank with the Hinkles than the snakes dived into the river.

  “S-s-snakelings!” hissed one beast, darkening the clear water with its dirty scales.

  “Yes-s-s, Slyvor!” said the others.

  “Capture the old ones — they are slow!”

  “Hold on. Who are you calling old?” said Mrs. Hinkle. “I haven’t got one gray hair —”

  “Neal, behind you!” cried Julie.

  Neal turned too late. Two snakelings had wound their tails around the legs of Eric’s parents and dragged them up the riverbank.

  Before Neal could pop his turban on, three snakes swiped at him, sending him splashing into the water. “Help!”

  Julie dived into the river to save him. As she dragged Neal to the far bank, she saw the snakelings tie the two Hinkle parents in thick ropes and hustle them back to their camp.

  “Holy cow!” gasped Neal. “We lost Eric’s parents! He’s going to be so mad at us!”

  “It was all my fault,” said Julie. “I should have saved them first —”

  “Shhh. Listen,” said Neal.

  “Harm them not,” the snakeling leader was saying. “Tomorrow Gethwing comes-s-s. And I — Slyvor — shall get a prize for keeping them s-s-safe!”

  “Get your paws off me!” Mr. Hinkle shouted. “This is my favorite jacket.”

  “You know, there are products to help that skin condition,” said Mrs. Hinkle. “You might feel better about yourself —”

  “I feel so sorry for them,” whispered Neal.

  “Me, too,” said Julie. “Captured the minute they set foot in Droon! Poor Hinkles.”

  “I mean the beasts,” said Neal. “They’ll wish they had never captured the Hinkles.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Julie. “Their leader said they’ll be safe. At least until Gethwing comes. We’ll have to free them before then.”

  “Add it to the list,” said Neal, edging away down the far riverbank. “We need to get the Moon Medallion and find a cure for Eric and stop the attack on Jaffa City and tell Galen your vision. Plus it might snow. Green snow!”

  “It’s going to be a busy day,” said Julie.

  Neal tugged his giant blue turban low on his brow. Then he grabbed Julie’s hand, and they both jumped high in the air.

  Whoooooosh!

  Hand in hand, the friends soared westward away from Rivertangle, over the high green plains toward the Zorfendorf countryside. The sun had not yet risen over the horizon, but as they saw vast gray clouds massing in the distant east, they hoped Zorfendorf Castle was still free.

  They flew mile after mile, over the deserted Dust Hills of Panjibarrh and farther south.

  “We’d better hurry,” said Neal. “We don’t want a flock of wingwolves seeing us.”

  Julie hadn’t been able to forget the scratch on her hand. It had tingled ever since the incident in the tree that morning.

  “There’s the castle,” she said.

  And there it stood. Zorfendorf’s brilliant white stone turrets gleamed over the dark fields like a beacon.

  “And there’s Keeah —” said Neal.

  The princess was racing across the tops of walls. “We’ve been waiting for you!” she shouted.

  A few moments later, Julie and Neal landed inside the
massive gate. Keeah ran to meet them.

  “Snakelings surprised us at Rivertangle!” Neal told her. “Ugly, scaly dudes. They snapped up the Hinkles in, like, seconds.”

  Keeah shook her head. “Snakelings are nasty, but they’re too afraid of Gethwing to cause any trouble. We’ll rescue the Hinkles later. Come to the library. We have news.”

  “Me, too,” said Julie as they hurried through the winding streets. “I had a vision I really have to tell Galen about.”

  The princess slowed at the castle steps.

  “A vision?” she said. “Really?”

  “I think it’ll happen very soon,” Julie said.

  Keeah let out a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say this, but … Galen is already gone.”

  Julie stopped. “What? But I had a vision of him just this morning. Anusa was guiding him. There was purple smoke —”

  “Anusa led Galen away last night,” said Keeah. “That wasn’t the future you saw. It was the past.”

  Julie was stunned. “No …”

  The princess took her hand. “I’m sorry. We have no time to waste. To the library.”

  They raced up the castle steps and down several hallways. They climbed a narrow winding staircase and ran down a wide straight one. They flashed through several corners and dived into a tunnel. Finally, they arrived at the massive library of the mysterious Prince Zorfendorf.

  Hundreds of shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Each was filled with thousands of books, overflowing stacks of paper, piles of maps, and bundles of scrolls.

  And right there in the middle of them was their friend Max, swinging from shelf to shelf, muttering to himself, pulling out scrolls here, yanking out books there, and tossing them all over his shoulders in an avalanche of paper.

  “Where is that ratty old book about ancient poisons?” he cried. “Or is it a scroll?”

  Darting to and fro beneath Max, trying to catch whatever the spider troll threw down, was an implike creature that resembled a small wild dog.

  His dark fur was spotted brightly from his snubby snout to this curly tail. He had very short rear legs, but his front paws were slender and delicate.

  Julie recognized him at once. “It’s Hob!”

  “Hob is helping the search for Eric’s cure,” said the imp, tossing a pile of books and scrolls onto a big worktable.