The Great Ice Battle

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1: Daymare!

  2: City of Light

  3: White Snow, Dark Magic

  4: A Party of Evil Dudes

  5: The Gift of Magic

  6: The Red Wolves of Droon

  7: A Royal Wizard

  8: Race Against Time

  9: Droonians, Unite!

  10: Reverse the Curse!

  The Adventure Continues …

  Also Available

  Copyright

  As cold as ice.

  That’s how Eric Hinkle felt as he jumped from his bed.

  “Brrr!” he said to himself, shivering. He pulled on his thick socks. He got into his warmest winter pants. He shivered again. Eric was having bad thoughts of an evil sorcerer. And that’s what was giving him the creeps — but not why he was so cold.

  Ever since Eric and his best friends, Julie and Neal, had discovered the entrance to the amazing, secret world of Droon, they had been afraid of Lord Sparr.

  “Who ­wouldn’t be afraid?” Eric said aloud.

  With those creepy purple fins growing up behind his ears. And the long black cloak. And his ugly red-faced warriors called Ninns.

  Sparr was the reason Eric felt so cold.

  The evil sorcerer wanted only one thing.

  To take over all of Droon.

  “But now, things in Droon are different,” Eric said as he dug in his closet for his winter coat.

  On their last adventure in Droon, Sparr had had a chance to hurt Eric. But he ­hadn’t done it.

  He had let him live. He’d said Eric would help him.

  “I’ll never help you!” Eric said with a shudder.

  “Why won’t you help me?”

  “Because you’re evil!” Eric snapped back.

  “Eric!”

  He blinked. His father was standing in the doorway to his room. He was frowning.

  “Dad!” Eric said. “I’m sorry. You’re not evil. I guess I was daydreaming or something.”

  His father sighed. “Well, you can help me later. Neal and Julie are waiting for you outside.”

  “Thanks!” Eric threw on his coat and ran downstairs to the back door. Still shivering, he grabbed his cap, pulled it low over his eyes, and wrapped his scarf tight around his neck.

  He flung open the door. “Whoa!” he gasped.

  Warm air and bright sunshine poured in.

  Julie and Neal were dressed in T-shirts and shorts. They had a softball, mitts, and a bat.

  “It’s not hockey season!” Neal said, chuckling.

  Julie made a face. “Are you okay, Eric?”

  He stared at his friends. Then he tore off his coat and scarf. “This is sooooo weird! I was cold. I was freezing! I must have daydreamed that it was winter! Sorry.”

  Julie tossed the ball up. “So, who’s pitching?”

  “Me first!” Neal grabbed the ball from Julie.

  “No, me!” said Eric.

  “Sorry, pal. I called it,” said Neal. “Besides, I’ve got this new throw to show you! I just twist my fingers and shoot the ball. It’s fast!”

  Eric took the bat, but in his mind he kept seeing Lord Sparr.

  “Why don’t we use ice today?” Sparr was saying.

  Ice. That was the other thing Sparr had said the last time they were in Droon. Sparr was going to do something bad with ice.

  “We’ll defeat Princess Keeah,” the Sparr in Eric’s mind continued. “And the old wizard, Galen. You will help me….”

  “No way!” Eric cried, dropping the bat. “I’ll never do it! Never!”

  “Are you going to play or not?” Neal said.

  Eric turned to his friends. “Sorry, guys. But something weird is going on. I keep seeing Sparr in my mind. He’s telling me how I’m going to help him. It’s like a nightmare, only it’s daytime.”

  “A daymare!” Julie said. Then she gasped. “Wait a second. Do you think the daydreams mean we need to go to Droon?”

  Their friend Princess Keeah had told them that when they dreamed about Droon, it meant the magic was working.

  It meant they needed to return.

  Eric nodded slowly. “This might be some kind of message or something.” He started for the back steps. “We need to return. Now.”

  “What? No!” Neal jumped up and down. “I need to show you my new twisty throw — hey!”

  But Julie and Eric were already in the house.

  “Oh, man!” said Neal. “I knew we ­weren’t going to play this game. I just knew it!”

  By the time Neal caught up with them, Eric and Julie were halfway down the base­ment stairs.

  “We’ll play when we get back,” Julie said. “It’s not as if Droon takes any time. No matter how long our adventure is, we come back around the same time we left. It’s so neat that way.”

  This was true. One of the very coolest things the kids discovered was that it took no time at all to have a full adventure in Droon.

  “Time is strange there,” Eric said. “It’s different from here in the Upper World.”

  The Upper World was Droon’s name for where the kids lived.

  Neal set the softball on the workbench. Julie and Eric pushed aside a large box.

  Behind it was the door to a small empty room under the basement stairs.

  Carefully, they went inside the room. Eric closed the door behind them. Julie clicked off the light.

  For an instant the room was dark, then —

  Whoosh! A set of rainbow-colored stairs appeared where the floor used to be.

  “I love that!” Julie whispered.

  Eric took the first step. “Let’s go.”

  They began their descent.

  “I can’t see anything but the stairs,” Eric whispered. “It’s totally dark all around.”

  Julie took a deep breath. “Do you think the stairs can lead us to someplace bad?”

  “Thanks for scaring me,” Neal mumbled, clutching the stair rail.

  “I’m not sure,” said Eric. “I guess that’s one of Droon’s many secrets — whoa!”

  “What is it?” asked Neal, huddling closer.

  “That was the bottom step,” said Eric.

  No sooner had they stepped off than the stairway began to fade. A moment later, it was gone.

  “No turning back now,” said Julie.

  They stepped forward. Eric stuck his hands out. “I think it’s some kind of cave. The walls are rough. So is the floor. Be careful.”

  “It smells like animals,” Julie added.

  Grrrr!

  Everyone stopped.

  “Is somebody going to say ‘Excuse me,’ or are we in deep trouble?” Neal asked.

  Grrrr! The growling noise was closer this time.

  “I hear breathing,” Julie whispered.

  “And I s-s-see … eyes!” Neal stammered. “Red eyes! Lots of them!”

  Eric shivered again, then whispered, “Everyone who agrees we should run, say ‘Run.’”

  “RUN!” they all cried.

  They ran.

  The three friends scrambled through the cave as fast as they ­could.

  Grrr! Grrr! Whatever was behind them was following swiftly.

  “There’s light up ahead!” Julie called back.

  “I’m there!” said Neal.

  “Last one out is a rotten egg!” Eric cried.

  They hurled themselves out of the mouth of the cave and into the light. Bright light. And green grass. And flowers. They tripped over a low wall and tumbled down a short slope to a wire fence.

  “We’re trapped!” Neal yelled.

  Suddenly, the kids heard laughter.

  They sat up and squinted through the fence.

  Standing behind it were Princes
s Keeah and her father, King Zello.

  “Welcome to Droon!” the king boomed.

  They looked back at the cave. The red eyes blinked and disappeared into the darkness.

  Eric jumped to his feet. “You mean … we’re safe?”

  “Very,” Keeah said with a giggle. “You just looked funny running out of the wolves’ cave.”

  Neal gulped. “Did you say … wolves? Man, I hope we never go back into that cave!”

  Keeah and her father opened an iron gate and helped the three kids outside the fence.

  “The red wolves of Droon are famous,” King Zello said. “They protect our city!”

  The king was a tall man with broad shoulders. He wore a helmet with horns and carried a wooden club. Princess Keeah had long blonde hair. She wore a green tunic and leather boots.

  “Welcome to Jaffa City,” Keeah said. “Jaffa is the royal city of Droon!”

  The princess led them out to a stone courtyard that was larger than a baseball stadium.

  At one side was a busy marketplace. Men and women strolled and shopped at colorful tents. Their children played happily by a beautiful fountain nearby.

  “Wow,” said Eric. “I had bad daydreams about Sparr. But things look pretty okay here!”

  On the other side of the square rose giant buildings of white and silver and green and pink stone. In between grew flowers and bushes, and birds sang in white-blossomed apple trees.

  A soft breeze blew across the vast open space.

  “It sure is beautiful,” Julie said as they passed the fountain. The children of Droon waved to the three friends from the Upper World.

  “Friendly, too,” Neal said, giving the kids the peace sign.

  “And someday Keeah will rule over this city as well as all the villages outside,” the king said. “Just like her mother, Queen Relna.”

  Keeah’s mother was a wizard who had been transformed into a white falcon. In that shape, she had helped the kids fight Lord Sparr. Now she herself needed help to become human again.

  “But for now, Keeah,” the king said, “you must get ready for your magic lessons. Galen will be here soon. Max will come, too, of course.”

  Galen was a powerful old wizard. Max was his spider-troll assistant.

  The king beamed with pride and said, “Galen tells me that in some ways Keeah’s powers are greater than his own. When the time is right, her true powers will be revealed.”

  Eric’s eyes went wide. “Powers? Cool!”

  Keeah made a face. “More like lukewarm. So far, I’ve broken seven clay pots, one bowl, a chair, and two clocks.”

  “Three clocks,” her father said, smiling. “But Galen will teach you. And look, here he comes!”

  A thick blue mist rose in the middle of the square. Sparks of light streaked through it.

  An instant later — zamm! A bearded old man in a long blue robe stood there. Next to him sat a large spider with four arms and four legs. He had a round face, a pug nose, and orange hair that stood straight up.

  “Galen! Max!” Eric said. “Good to see you again!”

  But the wizard did not look happy.

  “What’s wrong?” the king asked, gripping his wooden club tightly.

  There was fear in Max’s eyes as he spoke. “Terrible!” he chittered. “Lord Sparr! He’s coming!”

  “I fear the worst,” Galen said. “A curse has been sent by the evil one. We’ve tracked it across the plains. Now look!”

  Galen pointed to the skies above them. A vast black cloud passed quickly in front of the sun. The entire courtyard fell into shadow.

  “It is a curse!” Max muttered.

  Eric thought of his daydream again. He shivered with cold as he shot a look at Keeah.

  “What kind of curse?” he asked.

  A snowflake fell from the darkening sky. Another followed it. Then another and another.

  The sun vanished completely. The air grew icy cold. Freezing wind tore across the city.

  The trees that had been so beautiful were instantly crusted with heavy frost.

  Ice formed on the city walls and on the stones of the courtyard.

  Eric remembered what Sparr had said.

  “Ice!” he cried, shivering. “Sparr is using ice to attack us! It’s just like he told me!”

  Keeah’s eyes went wide with fear. “Oh, my Jaffa City!”

  Within moments the city was covered with ice. Biting winds swirled snow into huge drifts.

  “This is Sparr’s dark magic!” Galen said.

  Crrrack! The fountain’s silvery stream thickened and suddenly went still.

  “This is just like my daydream,” Eric said. “It’s a curse of ice.”

  The colorful banners over the marketplace stopped waving. Icicles formed on the buildings and hung like daggers over the frozen streets.

  Eric saw the fear in Keeah’s eyes. He shivered, too. “What can we do to stop this?”

  Keeah turned to the king. “Our villages can’t survive this cold. We must save our ­people!”

  Zello nodded. “I shall go help the villagers. Keeah, you stay here and keep Jaffa City safe. Galen, I must go quickly. Perhaps your latest invention …”

  “Ah!” the wizard said. “My water sled. Yes, it should ride quite well on ice. Follow me!” Galen led the king and his guards to the stables.

  “We’ll help, too!” Neal said, clapping his arms around himself. “If we don’t fr-fr-freeze f-first!”

  Max scuttled over. “Let me make you warm!” he chirped. “I’ll spin you coats of my special spider silk. It’s the warmest fabric in all of Droon!”

  Max’s arms and legs began to blur in the air all around the kids. Soon, he had woven each one a thick coat and a pair of furry boots.

  “Thank you,” said Julie. “They’re very warm.”

  A moment later, several shaggy six-legged beasts called pilkas trotted across the square to the gate.

  In the lead was Leep, Galen’s own pet pilka.

  Behind them, the pilkas dragged a sleek wooden sled. It looked like a small boat and rode over the ice on long skis. King Zello, bundled in a cloak of bright blue fur, was riding in the back.

  “Be careful!” Keeah said, hugging her father.

  “I shall be. And you, too,” he replied.

  Errrr! Two guards pushed aside a large bolt and the city’s huge iron gates swung open.

  The king snapped the reins, and Leep charged ahead, pulling Galen’s sled into the swirling snow.

  Keeah waved one last time before — clong! — the gates closed.

  “I predict he will be safe,” Galen said.

  Neal frowned. “But, um, what about us? Could Sparr just march in here with his Ninns?”

  Keeah beamed. “Galen charmed our walls! An evil spirit can’t enter unless he is invited.”

  “That is true,” the wizard said. “An old spell.”

  “And we never will invite evil ones into Jaffa!” Max chittered. “They have no manners!”

  “Excellent,” said Neal. “I like being safe for a change.”

  Keeah smiled. “Now, ­everyone, come. Let’s get warm in the throne room!”

  Julie and Neal hurried in after Keeah. The guards went with Galen into the frosted palace. Max scuttled across the stones after his master.

  But Eric stayed behind for a moment. He climbed to the top of the wall and looked out. The nearby villages were quickly being swallowed up by the deep snow.

  He shuddered. But it ­wasn’t from the cold.

  Did I make this happen somehow? he wondered. Did I already help Sparr do this? How?

  “No! I ­couldn’t have done this!” he shouted into the storm. “And I won’t help Sparr, either! Never! Ever!”

  He turned to go into the palace.

  “Help!” a tiny voice cried out.

  Eric looked down. The courtyard below was empty of ­everything but ice and snow.

  “Help!” the voice called out again.

  Eric looked back over the wall
. There, in the deepening snow, was a small figure. A boy.

  The boy shivered in thin clothes, his tiny arms wrapped around him. He looked just like the children playing in the square before.

  “Help me!” the boy pleaded. “I was playing. I got left outside.”

  Eric turned to the gates. “Guards!” he yelled.

  But the guards had gone inside with Galen.

  The only sound was the red wolves starting to howl from their cave.

  The little boy trembled even more.

  “Wait a second! Hold on!” Eric yelled. He ran down the steps to the front gate.

  He ­could hear the child whimpering outside. “Wait!” Eric called. With all his strength he pushed the gate’s huge bolt aside. Then he dug his feet into the snow and pulled on the giant door. It ­wouldn’t budge. He pulled harder.

  Finally, it opened a tiny crack.

  Eric peered into the swirling winds. Ice pelted his face. “Where are you?” he shouted.

  The wolves howled again.

  So did the wind.

  “Cold!” the boy said. He stood a few feet from the iron door, the storm whipping at his ragged clothes. He was nearly covered in ice.

  “So cold!” the boy groaned.

  “Come in!” Eric cried, reaching for the boy. “Get warm inside!”

  The boy leaped past Eric. He was through the gates in a single bound.

  “Thank you,” the boy said. Then he turned and looked Eric straight in the eye. He grinned.

  “I told you that you would help me!” he said.

  Eric gasped. “What do you mean? Wait … no … no!”

  The wolves howled a final time.

  And the boy’s face began to change.

  The small boy’s pale skin turned the color of ashes. Then he wiggled and stretched himself up to the size of a tall man.

  “No … no …” Eric mumbled. “It can’t be!”

  The figure’s narrow shoulders broadened. His rags fell away to reveal a long black cloak. But the worst part was the purple fins that sprouted behind his ears.

  “Sparr is here!” Eric cried. “Help!”

  He raced as fast as he ­could to the palace.

  Galen ran down the steps. A dozen armed guards dashed out with him. “Eric, what is it?”

  “I messed up! I messed up big-time!” Eric said, falling to the steps, his heart racing with fear. “Sparr tricked me! I let him in! I helped him!”