Wizard or Witch? Read online

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1: This Magic Moment

  2: Ninth Orbit, Second Moon

  3: Chitchat with a Hat

  4: Flight of the Wingy Wolves

  5: On the Bad Ship Stinkenpoop

  6: Follow the Leader

  7: What the Oobja Know

  8: A Face from the Shadows

  9: Royal Family

  10: The Nose Knows

  11: Just Magic

  12: The Soul’s Language

  The Adventure Continues …

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  Copyright

  It was the sound of words that woke me.

  At first, they seemed strange and beautiful, like mysterious fish weaving around a swimmer.

  Then the shouts came, and the running of feet, and the voices, full of fear, calling me….

  No. Wait. That’s not right.

  I need to begin this story properly.

  It isn’t every day a person gets to write in her Wizardbook. This is far too important to get wrong. The story I set down on these pages — every single word of it — has to be right.

  It has to be perfect.

  Perfect? Yes. That’s part of the story, too.

  Okay, then.

  My name is Keeah. I live in Jaffa City, the royal capital of the land of Droon. King Zello is Droon’s ruler and the leader of its people. He’s also my father.

  Queen Relna is my very beautiful and kind mother. She’s a wizard of incredible power.

  Since I’m their daughter, I’m a princess.

  And a wizard.

  The more I practice all my charms and spells — and the bright blue wizard sparks shooting from my fingertips have been getting stronger each day — the better it is for Droon.

  That’s because not all of Droon is good.

  And that’s because of Lord Sparr.

  I shiver even writing his name in my Wizardbook. Sparr is a sorcerer of great power. He wants to control not only his Dark Lands — the smelly, smoke-filled countries east of Jaffa City — but every single inch of Droon itself.

  And not just Droon, either.

  A long time ago, Sparr created the Three Powers — the Red Eye of Dawn, the Golden Wasp, and the Coiled Viper.

  For ages and ages, these magical objects were lost.

  Then, Sparr found his Powers — one after the other — until only the Red Eye remained hidden from him.

  Of course, my parents and I aren’t the only ones trying to stop Sparr from ruling Droon.

  The great wizard, Galen Longbeard, has fought the sorcerer and his army of Ninns forever, trying to keep them from taking over.

  Or, he used to.

  A very mysterious genie named Anusa took the wizard away from us on a long journey. Where Galen is now and when his quest will end, nobody really knows.

  But Max, his trusty spider troll friend, is here to help us, along with many friendly people and creatures in every corner of Droon. They’re part of this story, too.

  Best of all are my friends Eric Hinkle, Julie Rubin, and Neal Kroger.

  Ever since they discovered a magical staircase between us and the Upper World where they live, they’ve been helping me keep Droon safe.

  Eric has even become a wizard with his own really strong magic. Julie now has the ability to fly. And Neal … well, Neal is Neal.

  Droon can be pretty dangerous, but my friends are always here when I need them most.

  I needed them today.

  Which brings me to the beginning. I’ll start my story with the very first thing I remember.

  Morning …

  * * *

  The sun was just below the eastern hills. I was in my royal bed, asleep and dreaming … dreaming … dreaming … deep dreams….

  Krooth-ka … meshti … pah-la … Neffu!

  “What?” I bolted up in bed thinking that someone had called out to me. Strange words I’d never heard before swam in my head for a moment, then faded.

  Looking around, I saw hazy pink light beginning to streak the floor of my room.

  “Who’s there?” I said. “Mother? Father —”

  Thump! Thump! The sound of running feet filled the corridors of the palace.

  “Stop, you! Stop!” someone yelled.

  Pushing aside the book lying next to me, I jumped up from my bed, only to find that I had fallen asleep in my clothes — blue tunic, leggings, and belt. My gold crown lay resting on my pillow. I put it on.

  “Max? Max!” I called. He didn’t answer. His tiny bed was all rumpled and empty in the corner.

  A sudden cry came through the halls.

  “It is mine … mine!”

  A chill ran through me. The voice, part hissing, part snarling, sounded like his. It sounded like the voice of Lord Sparr.

  “Him? Here? Never!” I whispered.

  Long ago, Galen had cast a spell against Sparr. He could never enter Jaffa City unless he was invited in. And he never would be.

  I looked up at the ceiling. Objects I had levitated the night before — two clocks, a bucket, five pencils — still hung where I’d charmed them. Levitating things was my latest skill. Among the hovering objects was a glass ball that I always use to call my friends.

  “Princess!” cried a fearful voice from below. It came from my parents’ throne room.

  “Coming!” I shouted. I glanced back at the floating ball. “Sorry, friends, I’ll call you later. Right now, I’m needed!”

  I knew going over the rooftops would be even quicker than running through the palace halls, which I wasn’t supposed to do anyway. So, I flung open the far door and dashed onto the stones of my balcony.

  Above me, the sky was turning from deep violet to the pink of morning. The sun just peeped over the eastern horizon. I breathed it all in.

  “Okay, Keeah,” I said to myself. “It’s magic time. Mother, Father, here I come!”

  Trembling, I sprang off the balcony and darted up across the roof tiles to the peak. I skipped along the top, then leaped off.

  Whoosh! I glided through the air and came down running on the next peak. Speeding across, I jumped to a low tower, then to a little dome.

  Fwit-fwit-fwit! From one roof to the next, I flitted and danced, twirling in midair, flying across the tiles for a moment, then leaping onto the next rooftop.

  This power had just come to me, too.

  Quickening my pace, I jumped one last time, landed on the giant dome of the main palace, slid down, and dropped to its large balcony. It overlooked the city square and the sea beyond.

  I saw people running in the courtyard below, calling out wildly. Shaggy six-legged pilkas clomped in every direction. And there, in the middle of it all, was something that chilled me to the bone.

  A car.

  With a long yellow body, eight fat tires, twin silver horns on either side, and a glass bubble on top, it was a car I had seen before.

  My stomach tightened.

  “Sparr’s car!” I gasped. “He is here!”

  Already my hands were hot. I didn’t know how Sparr had gotten into the city, but I knew I’d have to join my parents to battle him out again. I only hoped that when my sparks flared, we would all be a match for him.

  Gritting my teeth, I turned, crossed the balcony, slammed through the giant doors, and strode into the throne room.

  “Sparr —” I shouted. I stopped.

  Against the bright silver and green banners, the evil sorcerer stood alone in a circle of dark light.

  One of his hands was raised high, clasped tightly in a fist. A sizzling spray of red sparks shot from it.

  “Where are my parents?” I demanded.

  Slowly, Sparr turned his head. His face was thin, his nose sharp, his eyes flashing like black flames.
But it was the dark red fin behind each ear that proved he was not like the rest of us.

  “Your parents are … sleeping in,” he said softly, pointing to the end of the throne room.

  My heart nearly stopped. There, inside a large crystal box, standing silent and unmoving, were my mother and father.

  I ran to the box. “What did you do to them?” My parents’ eyes were shut as if they were in a deep sleep. “Sparr, answer me!”

  “They were in my way,” said the sorcerer. “Or, I should say … our way.”

  “Our way?” I turned back to Sparr. “You can’t be in the city. How did you even get in here?”

  A cold smile crossed his lips. “Why, Keeah … don’t you remember?”

  I trembled. “Remember what?”

  “How you kindly opened the gates for me!”

  Red light sizzled from his closed hand.

  “What? I’d never do that. I couldn’t do that. I’m a wizard —”

  “Oh?” he said. “And do wizards turn their palace guards into … toads?”

  He motioned behind him. Several helmets on the floor toppled over. Under each was a big brown lump. They croaked one after the other, then hopped away.

  “I didn’t!” I said. “I was sleeping —”

  “How nice, then, that my dreams came true!” said Sparr. “Because you gave me — this.”

  He opened his gloved fist and lifted his palm to me. In it sat a large crimson jewel, lighting up his face with a bright red glow.

  I shivered. “The Red Eye of Dawn! But who — how did you — that’s impossible —”

  Turning, I saw the large iron door behind my father’s throne hanging open. The small room inside was empty.

  My head throbbed. My mouth felt dry.

  “Sparr, I don’t know what tricks you’re playing here, but you won’t get away with this!”

  “I’m not getting away,” he said calmly. “I’m staying right here. With your parents no longer a problem, Jaffa City is mine. You are mine. Oh, now look —”

  Wham! The doors flew open.

  Max charged in, his orange hair wild and standing straight up, his eyes wide and afraid. “Princess, creatures are pouring out of the Dark Lands. Ninns are sailing to the city right now. Sparr is taking over! We must fight —”

  Without wanting to, I felt my hands moving up from my sides, growing hot. “Max, I …”

  The spider troll stumbled to a halt. “Princess?”

  Poooom! — a flash of sparks left my fingers. Max flew across the floor, blasting out the doors and over the balcony as if he were dragged away by an invisible rope.

  A second later, he vanished out to sea.

  “Max, no, no! My gosh, what have I done?!” I looked at the sparks spitting from the tips of my fingers.

  They were jagged and hot and … red.

  “Witch powers!” I gasped.

  Sparr howled with laughter. “Ninns are coming here. Creatures from the Dark Lands are on the move. I am taking over. And all because of you, Keeah. Your dark powers — your witch powers — have finally come out! There’s no one to stop me anymore. What a perfect moment. Perfect!”

  I could barely speak. “Perfect? It’s not perfect. It’s the opposite of perfect…. It’s … it’s …”

  Sparr turned to my parents’ empty thrones and offered me his hand. “Now that you are a witch, Keeah, let’s rule Droon as I had always hoped — together!”

  I felt as cold as ice. I stared at my fingers. They sprayed red-hot sparks in the air.

  “I didn’t mean to do this. I can’t do this!”

  Sparr smiled, still waiting for me to take his hand. “But you did do it, Keeah. I have waited so long for your dark side to rise up and take over! Now, tell me. Jaffa City sounds so old-fashioned. What do you think of Sparrville —”

  “Sparrville?!”

  I couldn’t believe it. Here I was, standing inches from the worst sorcerer in Droon, all black clothes and red fire, but instead of blasting him, I had just zapped away my dearest friend!

  “No. No! NO!” I yelled.

  Sparr smirked. “Oh, I see. I suppose you like Keeahport better? Or perhaps … Princesstown?”

  I backed away.

  I knew what I had to do.

  Keeping my arms at my sides and closing my eyes, I saw my parents’ faces before me, as gentle and kind as they were last night.

  I spoke the words my mother had taught me.

  “Blibby … blobby … snoo!”

  Sparr’s face twisted. “Eh? I thought you were done with those silly spells — oh!”

  Kkkkrrreeeekkkk! Everything in the room, in the palace, in the whole city, stopped moving.

  Everything went still.

  Sparr stood there as motionless as a statue. His black eyes stared ahead. One of his hands still clasped the jewel while the other reached for me. His fins burned a deep red.

  “You … horrible … thing!” I shouted.

  Wiping my cheeks, I faced my parents, asleep in their crystal box. “Mother, you taught me this halting charm. Father, I have twelve hours before everything moves again in Jaffa City. Twelve hours to figure out how I let Sparr in, to find Max, to wake you both, to save Droon! My friends will come. Together, we’ll fix this. We will!”

  The sound of my footsteps echoed down the hall as I left the throne room.

  Up the main staircase I ran, pounding up the marble steps two at a time. I raced through my father’s library, up the final set of stairs, and into the corridor outside my room.

  I paused to catch my breath.

  In the stillness around me, I heard only the sound of my heart beating.

  I felt so completely alone.

  Peering for a moment out a small window, I saw the vast sea where I had sent Max. Its dark, booming waves suddenly brought up a name I hadn’t thought of since last night.

  “Demither!”

  Demither was my mother’s sister and the ruler of a powerful sea empire.

  Demither was also a witch.

  “Is it true, then? Am I becoming like her?”

  Oooo — oooo. A low sound drifted up from the stairs. It was as if the wind were moaning through every silent room and open door of the palace.

  I shook my head to clear it. “It’s only the wind. And I have only twelve hours. Come on!”

  I rushed into my room and quickly bolted the door behind me. Turning, I reached for the glass ball hanging in the air and pulled it down.

  My heart leaped to remember how many times Eric, Julie, and Neal had dropped what they were doing to come and help me.

  “Friends,” I said, shaking, “my parents are under a spell. Sparr is here. I cursed poor Max! I need you now. Please hurry!”

  I rolled my hand over the ball, and it lit up as if there were a fire inside it. Taking a feather pen, I formed a letter on the ball.

  E

  I nearly laughed to think how Galen would scold me if he saw how shaky my writing was.

  “Wizards should have excellent handwriting,” he told me once. “Power comes from words, both spoken and written. Remember that!”

  Lifting my pen to the ball again, I wrote the letters slowly, starting from the end of the word and finishing at the beginning.

  E … m … o … c

  I paused, then added a second word.

  E … s … a … e … l … p

  I’m not sure I needed it, but my father always taught me to be polite. His Rules for the Kingly Art of Combat flashed through my mind.

  1. Straighten your tunic before entering battle.

  2. Always say, “May Droon be with you!” if your opponent sneezes.

  3. No matter who wins, don’t forget to offer your enemy a ride home.

  I swallowed hard as I remembered his gruff voice reciting those rules. I set down the pen.

  After a moment or two, the letters faded. The ball went clear.

  “Okay,” I said. “Now I wait —”

  But right then, I saw a purple objec
t sticking out from under my bed.

  “My Wizardbook.”

  I picked it up and opened it. A lump formed in my throat as I remembered the first time I had ever seen the book.

  Last night …

  * * *

  Fwoosh! Blam! Whizzz! Bright blue sparks were whizzing around my room in the twilight air. I spun near the ceiling for minutes at a time, sending objects flying wildly around me.

  Knock, knock! I jumped to my bed as the door opened. My mother stepped in, wearing a long white gown. Behind her was my father in full armor, his twin-horned helmet on his head.

  Between them was tiny Max. His wild hair was combed flat, and he was wiggling as if ready to burst into song.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Keeah, do you know what tomorrow is?” asked my father.

  I thought for a moment. “Is it my turn to walk the pilkas again?”

  He laughed. “No, dear! Max, if you please.”

  “Ahem!” The spider troll cleared his throat and unrolled a small scroll.

  In a voice as deep as he could make it, Max began, “My dear princess, tomorrow is the first day of the seventh month before the last week nearest the fourth hour of the third season following the ninth orbit of the second moon!”

  I think I must have frowned.

  “In other words,” said my mother, laughing as she brought out a package from behind her gown, “open it!”

  I gasped. “A present? For me? I knew I liked the ninth orbit of the second moon!”

  I tore off the paper. Inside, I found a small book covered in rich purple leather. Gold designs coiled across its shiny finish. A hazy silver stone set right in the center of the cover shone with threads of red and blue light twisting deeply within it.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I said. “Thank you!”

  “Keeah, this is not just any book,” my mother said, sitting on my bed. “It is your Wizardbook. A moment comes to every wizard when your magic becomes greater than it has ever been —”

  “It’s like a growth spurt!” said Max.

  I gazed at the objects floating above us.

  “That moment is coming,” my mother said. “Your Wizardbook is your story of how you become a droomar wizard.”

  “Droomar!” I whispered.

  “Yes, droomar!” boomed my father. “Even before Galen, the mysterious droomar were living in caves, keeping alive the ancient wisdom of Droon. They are a magical elfin sort of folk —”