Wizard or Witch? Read online

  “But I’m not an elf,” I said. “How can I become a droomar?”

  My mother smiled. “Elfin Sight,” she said. “It is a power given to you at the moment you need it most. With the Sight, you see our world as you never have before.”

  “It is a wizard’s secret weapon,” said my father. “Elfin Sight is the true mark of a droomar.”

  “And a sign of great love,” my mother said.

  Max patted my shoulder. “The queen traveled a thousand miles in a single day to find her deepest magic,” he said. “An old droomar was her guide. That was a dangerous journey!”

  “At every step I was tempted by the darker ways,” she said. “I had many friends with me, including your aunt, my sister. Finally, I was alone —”

  She paused, looking out my window to the sea beyond the city walls.

  My aunt. Her sister. Demither.

  The Sea Witch.

  I shivered to remember how, like my mother, Demither was born to do great magic — droomar magic — until Sparr tempted her to join him.

  From the moment she became his servant, she couldn’t rebel against him. She had to help in his plans to take over Droon.

  I remembered, too, how once, when I was very young and far from home, Demither shared her powers with me. I remembered how her red sparks flowed into me, and how happy I was when those dark powers seemed to go away.

  “Is Demither a droomar?” I asked.

  My father shook his head. “The day she turned away from her family was the day she lost her Elfin Sight.”

  My mother looked at me again. “Keeah, let your Wizardbook inspire you. You alone can tell your story. When you come to write it, I know you will fill these pages with the wonderful language of your soul!”

  It was true — the blank white pages seemed to call out to be filled with magical words.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Soon you’ll be a true droomar like your mother,” said my father proudly. “Keeah, your moment is nearly here!”

  * * *

  Nearly here.

  I remember the thrill of hearing that.

  Now, as the memory of their late-night visit faded, and the wind howled in the halls again, I couldn’t deny it anymore.

  “I might be a wizard,” I murmured, “but so was Demither once. When my big moment comes, maybe it won’t be like anyone expects. Maybe my true powers are coming out. And they’re not droomar powers. Maybe I’m a —”

  Ooooo — The sound echoed up the stairs.

  I felt a chill on my neck.

  “That’s not the wind,” I said. “It’s a voice….”

  “Oooo —” The moan sounded closer.

  “It’s the voice of … a ghost!”

  Without saying a word or thinking a thought — zzzz! — my hands flashed red, and the bucket I had flown the night before was hovering before me, brimming with cold water.

  “Oooo —” The sound came closer still.

  I gulped down my fear and grabbed the bucket. “So there’s a ghost, is there? Well, witch powers or not, if it comes here, it’ll get a wet head!”

  Leaping to a chair, I carefully balanced the bucket on the edge of the door frame.

  “If ghosts even have heads!”

  I braced myself, staring at the door, both hands sprinkling bright red sparks.

  Suddenly — shooom! — the little fireplace behind me exploded with a giant cloud of smoke.

  I whirled around to see legs and arms and sneakers shooting straight at me.

  I gasped. “Eric?”

  “Out — of — the — way!” he cried.

  Blam! Wump! Oooof! Eric flew like a shot across the room, hurtling me back to the bed.

  “Sorry!” he yelled. “We — uh — fell!”

  Julie thudded down the fireplace shaft, leaped to her feet, then collapsed to the floor. “Owww!”

  “Way to be in the way!” said Neal. He tumbled over Julie, struck my bookcase, rolled back, flipped once, slammed against the wall, then stopped.

  Dazed, he looked up. “Oh, Keeah … hi!”

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” I said, rushing to help them up.

  Eric stared at the fireplace, wobbling back and forth. “Lucky you didn’t have a fire!”

  “Neal would have put it out anyway,” said Julie. She stepped over the puddle at Neal’s feet. He was soaking wet.

  Neal laughed. “Water balloons!” he said. “When you called us, I was filling them to throw at Julie and Eric. But they kept exploding.”

  “The water balloons kept exploding,” said Eric. “The magic word being water. Neal was drenched —” He stopped. “Keeah, you look worried. What’s happening? Why did you call us here?”

  There were so many things to tell. But when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t make myself say any of them. I just pointed out to my balcony.

  They saw the square full of people and animals, all silent and still.

  “Holy cow!” gasped Neal. “Everyone has become statues? What’s going on?”

  “It’s a halting spell,” I said. “Every person and creature in Jaffa City has stopped moving for twelve hours. I had to do it. Because of Sparr. Because … he’s here….”

  Julie’s jaw dropped. “Sparr’s here? How did he even get this far? Who let him into the city? What does he want?”

  I swallowed hard. There was only one answer.

  “Me, me, and, I guess, me …”

  Holding back the tears as best I could, I told them everything. That Sparr had put my parents under a spell, that he said I let him through the gates and gave him the Red Eye of Dawn, and that I cursed Max far away across the sea.

  “It’s all because,” I said, forcing myself to say it, “I’m turning into a witch. Just like Demither did. The dark powers she gave me once are coming back. They’re growing in me.”

  To show them, I opened my hands. Red sparks glowed from the tips of my fingers.

  “To make things worse, a huge army of Ninns is on its way,” I said finally. “And creatures from the Dark Lands. It’s happening. Sparr is taking over —”

  Eric stared at me for a second, then shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Somebody’s playing tricks here. Maybe even Demither, trying to win you over. This must be some weirdo evil plan.”

  “Besides,” said Julie, “you used a wizard spell to halt things, right? And you called us to come. So you’re not totally a — you know.”

  Neal frowned. “Plus, letting Sparr just stroll right into your home? I don’t think so —”

  “Oooooo!” came the sound from the hall.

  Everyone went quiet.

  “And there’s that,” I whispered.

  Neal gulped. “That? What exactly is that?”

  “A ghost, I think,” I said. “It’s haunting me.”

  “A ghost! Why didn’t you tell us?” said Eric. Bright silver sparks began to sprinkle from his fingers. “Stand back, everyone. We’ll stop it where it stands. Or hovers. Or whatever!”

  “Oooo — oooo — eeeee — kkkk — ohhh!”

  As we watched, something big and brown and rumpled pushed itself right through the wall and into the room with us.

  It floated three feet above the floor.

  It had a wide, floppy brim.

  It was a hat.

  “Oooo-oooo-oooo!” said a voice from a few inches below where the hat was floating.

  Julie blinked. “The ghost is … a hat?”

  “Thum!” said the space under the hat. “Augustus Rudolphus Septimus Thum! At your service. Yes, yes, I know. Big name, tiny body —”

  “We don’t see a body,” said Neal.

  “Of course you don’t see a … What did you say?”

  “All we see is a hat,” said Julie.

  “All you see is — oh, dear, I’m so forgetful!” The hat wiggled, twirled once, and dipped backward.

  Plooop! In the space below it appeared a small, white, four-footed creature, standing upright. He had a stubby snout, bushy
whiskers, green eyes, and pointed ears. He was wearing blue spectacles tied on a ribbon. He bowed with a flourish.

  When he did, I saw through him slightly.

  “There!” said the creature. He cleared his throat. “Now then. I’m not a ghost, no, but a droomar. That’s a drrr, and an oooo, and a marrrrr —”

  I gasped. “My mother is a droomar wizard!”

  “Oooo, I know,” said the creature, wiggling his nose. “And I am your guide. Well, sort of. I’ve come to give you a message. Now then, what was it? Oh, yes. Booooooo —”

  “Now, stop that!” said Julie, her hands on her hips. “Why are you haunting poor Keeah?”

  The creature let out a big gasp. “Haunting? Goodness, no! Booo was just the first part of what I have to say. The rest of the message is … is … oh. Oh, now I’ve forgotten. Wait. Boogie dune!”

  We looked at him.

  “Or, no,” he said. “That’s not it. Beagle drum! No, no … Baggy dome … ?”

  “Bagel Town!” said Neal, lighting up.

  “That doesn’t sound right,” said Thum.

  “Could it be … Bangledorn?” I asked.

  “THAT’S IT!” Thum shouted. “Bangledorn! The Bangledorn Forest! Where the Bangledorn monkeys live! You must go there at once!”

  Julie frowned. “Go to Bangledorn? But Sparr is right here in the palace. The Bangledorn Forest is a long way away. Why should we go there?”

  Thum grumbled. “Yes, well, you would have to ask me that….”

  I clasped the Wizardbook. “I know! My mother’s wizard journey took her a long way. Maybe this is part of my droomar journey —”

  The elfin creature jumped. “Mother’s journey? Wizardbook? Now I remember!”

  He waved a little paw over my book’s silvery stone. An instant later, the haze cleared and it showed the image of a thick green forest.

  Neal gasped. “It’s like a tiny TV!”

  Eeeee — eeee! A high-pitched shriek rang out from the stone. Then we saw dozens of tiny green monkeys fleeing through the trees.

  “Something’s happening,” said Eric.

  A moment later, we saw a mass of black wings. Finally, we saw the red fur, rusty armor, and glinting claws of an army flying into the forest.

  “Oh, my gosh!” gasped Julie. “Wingwolves!”

  We knew wingwolves. We had battled one before. It was a terrifying creature from an ancient tribe that Galen called the Hakoth-Mal.

  “So, it’s true,” I said. “Sparr’s creatures are coming from the Dark Lands. If this is part of my journey, it’s up to me to stop them!”

  “It’s up to us,” said Eric. “Together.”

  Thum grinned. “Yes, yes, that’s the message! Go! And remember this — Droon’s future lies with the one who has the biggest head!”

  “The biggest head?” said Julie. “What does that mean? You know, Thum, for someone who can be invisible, you’re not very clear —”

  “I am now!” said the droomar.

  A moment later — pooomf! — he was gone.

  Neal stared at the empty spot. “Could the guy have been any weirder? Wait. Let me answer that. No, he could not.”

  Eric laughed. “But he showed us that Bangledorn’s in trouble. We need to go. Come on!”

  For the first time since I woke up, I felt myself smile.

  I had just remembered my mother’s words.

  I had many friends with me.

  “Okay, then,” I said, tucking my Wizardbook into a leather pouch and hooking it on my belt. “Maybe we can change things. To the forest, everybody. And Sparr will take us there!”

  I pointed down from my balcony to the yellow car. Its fat tires pointed to the city gate.

  Neal grinned. “We are gonna travel in style! And I wanna drive!”

  He charged over to the door. That’s when I remembered the bucket. “Neal, wait, no —”

  Sploooosh! A gallon of icy cold water dropped over him, soaking him completely.

  “I am so sorry!” I said, trying not to laugh.

  Neal stood there, dripping onto the floor and staring at us. “Just when I was starting to dry out, too,” he said. “Nice. Very nice….”

  Racing outside, we dashed across the square to the long yellow car.

  “It looks super fast,” said Eric, lifting the bubble top. “There’s a map here, but no steering wheel. How does it work?”

  “It’s magical,” I said. “Galen told me it goes where Sparr commands it to go. And it goes fast.”

  “That’s why I should drive,” said Neal.

  Eric turned. “You? Why you?”

  “Because I love fast cars,” said Neal. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m the tallest.” He brushed his wet hair up on his forehead.

  “But I’m a week older,” said Eric.

  “We’re all getting older!” said Julie, leaping into the driver’s seat. “And we’re wasting time. Car, to the Bangledorn Forest!”

  The moment we jumped in — ooga! — the horns blared, and we screeched out the courtyard gates and away from the silent palace.

  “The journey begins,” I said. “Mother, Father, I’ll do everything I can to stop Sparr. I promise.”

  “We promise,” said Eric. “Droon is important to us, too.”

  Neal nodded. “Plus, how often do you get to freeze Old Fishfins and stop his creepy plans?”

  “And we will stop him,” said Julie.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  But as the car leaped away from Jaffa City, bumping and twisting toward the plains of middle Droon, I saw black clouds forming on the distant horizon.

  What Sparr had said was already happening.

  Creatures were coming from the Dark Lands.

  He was taking over.

  I only hoped I wasn’t helping him.

  We zigzagged through the countryside, with Julie driving first, then Neal. We raced faster and faster. Sparr’s car seemed to know which roads to take.

  Finally, we wove through the plains and rose over the crest of a giant hill. We slowed.

  “There it is,” I said.

  In front of us stood the huge mass of the Bangledorn Forest. It stretched all the way to the border of the smoky Dark Lands.

  Neal drove up and stopped where two giant oak trees soared over a path leading inside.

  “It looks peaceful,” said Julie. “And magical.”

  “Except it’s neither,” said Eric. “Wingwolves are in there. Plus, we can’t use our powers here.”

  For ages, the Bangledorn Forest has been one of the few places in Droon where no magic is allowed. Luckily, my fingers weren’t sparking.

  “I’ll try my best,” I said. “Julie?”

  She looked at a small scar on her hand. It was where a wingwolf had scratched her, giving her the power to fly. “No flying. I promise.”

  “I guess we can’t use magical cars, either,” said Neal. “We’ll have to go in on foot.”

  We all got out and entered the forest slowly. It was hushed and cool around us, but the birds that usually greeted us were silent. And the sky above was getting darker by the minute.

  “Bangledorn City is this way,” I said.

  But the moment I took a step — fwish-fwish! — a thick net of vines swept around us. It pulled us instantly into the high branches.

  “Hey! We’re trapped!” said Neal, struggling.

  “Magic or not,” said Eric, “I’ll blast us out —”

  “Oh!” hissed a voice. “It’s Princess Keeah!”

  As we dangled upside down, we saw two furry green faces peering down through the leaves.

  I gasped. “Wait, Twee, is that you?”

  “And Woot?” said Julie.

  It was the tiny brother and sister monkeys we had met on an earlier adventure. They jumped with surprise and hurried down to us.

  “Forgive us!” chirped Twee, quickly untying the net and leading us out to a thick branch. “We thought you were the enemy. Wingwolves have invaded our forest!”
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  “And chased us from our homes,” said Woot.

  “They’re moving in,” added a third voice.

  We looked up. A tall figure in a blue cape swung down silently from above. She wore a crown of purple leaves on her head.

  “Queen Ortha,” I said, bowing. “We came as soon as we heard —” In the leaves beyond her, I saw the faces of hundreds of monkeys, their eyes huge with fear.

  Ortha put a finger to her lips. “Follow me!”

  Grabbing a thick vine, she slipped away quietly. We followed, swinging on vine after vine, until we landed on a branch overlooking Bangledorn City.

  Houses of all sizes were built among the curling branches around us. Vine bridges dangled between them. And in the center, largest of all, was the many-leveled palace of the queen.

  But crawling over every inch of the city, leaping from house to house, flying among the trees, were furry red warriors with long claws.

  “We are not a fighting people,” whispered Ortha. “But to see them take over our homes …”

  Neal grumbled. “No kidding. One wingwolf is bad enough. They brought the whole family!”

  From the moment I saw the terrible creatures, I felt my hands growing hot. Words began swimming in my head, like the ones that woke me that morning.

  My eyelids felt heavy. I closed my eyes. “Pen-ga … zo …”

  Zzzzz! My eyes shot open, and I saw my fingertips spark suddenly.

  So did Ortha. “Keeah … those words. They sound like the ancient language of Goll. How do you know them?”

  I looked around. Twee and Woot were staring, too. “I’m sorry … this morning … I …”

  I explained everything that had happened, and how I was acting so strangely.

  “I must have let Sparr into the city,” I said. “I don’t really remember. He told me his creatures would come. I think my new powers are behind it all.”

  Ortha frowned. “When Queen Relna took her wizard journey, it was also a dangerous time.”

  “But what are we going to do?” asked Eric.

  I looked out at the wingwolves, then at the distant forest, then at my sparking hands. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control them for long.

  “Maybe there’s a way….” I said.