The Mask of Maliban (The Secrets of Droon #13) Page 3

  “What are we going to do?” he asked.

  Keeah pulled them into a small space between two shops and stared out. Wagon after wagon rumbled to the palace. “The first thing I’m going to do is call Galen.”

  Neal laughed. “Call Galen? I didn’t know you have cell phones in Droon!”

  The princess smiled. “Galen just taught me this.” She closed her eyes and went quiet. She frowned darkly, then began to nod to herself.

  Eric poked his head out of the stall. One cart heaped high with floating carpets rolled by. It was driven by Maliban’s guards. After it passed, the streets were quiet. No more carts went by.

  Keeah opened her eyes. “I told Galen and Max everything.”

  Neal blinked. “You can talk to each other silently? That’s so cool.”

  “Galen warned me there is very dark magic in Tortu,” said Keeah. “And Hob has hidden himself somewhere. We are to go to the palace and find Julie. And we must do it quickly…. The turtle has turned.”

  “Turned?” said Neal. “Where is he heading?”

  “Into the Dark Lands,” she said.

  Eric gasped. “The Dark Lands of Lord Sparr?”

  Neal sighed. “Yes, my friend, we go to all the best places. Come on, then. I guess our first stop is the big black palace of Maliban the mystery man.”

  Carefully, they zigzagged through the passages to the center of Tortu. Soon, the market streets ended and there stood a high wall of black stone.

  “Maliban’s palace,” said Eric.

  “Correction,” said Neal. “Maliban’s scary, bad, evil palace of magic. And if you thought a few hooded guys were scary, check them out.”

  A wall of hooded guards stood at the door.

  “We’ll never get past them,” said Eric. “They already know we’re friends of Julie.”

  Keeah spun around. “And I see another problem. Neal, take a look….”

  Up the street came the two girls in turbans whom they had seen in the market. They were squealing and laughing to each other.

  Neal jumped. “It’s the giggle twins! Please don’t let them touch my hair. Hide me!”

  They dived into the nearest shop. In it were rows of magic cloaks and gowns, tall coned hats, and jeweled scarves. The two girls passed by.

  “We’re late,” said the one dressed in pink, holding up a piece of paper. “Maliban will be angry. I have the black letter. Do you have the — ?”

  “Yes!” said the one in blue, tapping a leather pouch that hung at her side. “But where is our bodyguard? They’re expecting three of us!”

  “They’re going to the palace,” whispered Eric. “The black letter must be an invitation!”

  “I suddenly have a great idea!” said Keeah. She jumped out of the shop, pulling Neal with her. “Oh, girls! Look who I’ve got here.”

  “What?” groaned Neal. “Oh, man —”

  The two girls squealed when they saw him. “Cute! Yellow hair!” They ran to the shop.

  But the moment they came near, Keeah said, “Spindle … tres … flim!”

  The girls stopped in their tracks, giggled once — “hee-hee!” — and fainted.

  “They’ll wake in a few minutes,” said Keeah, snatching the letter and the pouch. “Giving us just enough time to take their places.”

  “Um … wait,” said Neal. “Take their places? Is this your great idea? I mean, even including their bodyguard, how are two guys and a girl going to become two girls and a guy?”

  “Simple,” said Keeah, turning to the rows of rich clothes. “One of you will dress as a girl.”

  Both boys took a step backward.

  “Not me,” said Neal.

  “Well, not me, either,” said Eric.

  Keeah sighed. “Julie’s trapped in the palace.”

  “But it’s impossible for me to go as a girl,” Neal protested. “Because of my ears.”

  “What’s wrong with your ears?” asked Eric.

  “Nothing! That’s just the point,” said Neal. “Everybody knows girl ears are smaller than boy ears. And no offense, Eric, but your ears are more like girl ears than mine.”

  “I do not have girl ears!” said Eric, glancing into a nearby mirror. “Keeah, tell him.”

  “You do have cute ears,” said the princess.

  Neal’s smile grew. “Besides, I’m perfect for the part of the bodyguard. I’m tall and cool-looking and mostly all muscles.”

  Neal pulled a blue gown off a rack and draped it over Eric’s shoulder. “This one even matches your eyes. How about it … Erica?”

  Eric stomped his foot and began to shout.

  “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t —”

  “Are you sure this dress matches my eyes?” said Eric as he pulled the gown over his head.

  “Yes,” said Keeah, “and I’m borrowing it when we’re done!”

  Laughing, Neal wrapped a scarf high around Eric’s head like a turban. “See, you’re perfect for the part. You look exactly like a giggle twin.”

  Eric grumbled. “I’m only doing this for Julie, you know. Now let’s find her.”

  Night was falling in the darkest part of the dark quarter of Tortu when the three friends left the shop. Lamps along the street swung gently as the turtle continued its journey.

  The black palace loomed just ahead of them. Its steps were lined with green-hooded guards.

  “Maliban’s house of magic,” said Neal. “Are we sure we’re ready for this?”

  “We don’t have much choice,” said Eric, glancing at his hands. They were normal. He wished they weren’t.

  “Start giggling,” said Keeah.

  “Hee-hee,” said Eric, his voice quaking with fear. He led the way up the palace steps.

  A guard at the door took the black letter from Keeah. His red eyes scanned it. “The twin princesses of Samarindo!” he proclaimed. “Prince Maliban is expecting you. Enter, Princess Sarla!”

  “That’s me,” squealed Keeah. “Tee-hee!”

  “Enter, her sister, Princess Looma!”

  “Tee-hee,” squeaked Eric, swishing his gown.

  “Enter, their servant … Doofus the Ugly!”

  Neal started to choke. “Doo … Doo … Doofus the Ugly? Is he kidding? That’s my name?”

  Eric pulled Neal in past the guards. “It’s like you said, pal, you’re perfect for the part. Now don’t forget to look ugly.” Eric mussed up Neal’s hair. “And watch your feet, you’re stepping on my gown!”

  Guards ushered them through the hallways.

  Neal tried to walk hunched over. “Should we make a break for it and find the dungeon?” he whispered.

  “No,” whispered Keeah. “Too risky.”

  “Besides,” said Eric, “we don’t know for sure what Maliban is up to….”

  Suddenly, Eric saw something in his mind. He saw a curtain. A bloodred curtain of thick velvet. It was rippling. And a terrible noise came from behind the curtain. “Gggll … kkk …”

  It was as if someone — or something — was trying to speak. Then a claw, the same claw Eric had glimpsed in the market, stuck out from behind the curtain. A moment later, the vision was over.

  Eric shook his head clear and marched ahead.

  The guards led the children into an open courtyard. The floor of the yard was the turtle’s polished shell. Though the sky above was moonless and growing darker, the air was warmed and lit by flaming torches hung from the walls.

  But the children noticed none of this. Because in the center of the courtyard was a statue.

  The statue was made of gleaming silver and shaped like a man clothed in long royal robes. It was nearly lifelike, except that its head was completely smooth. The only feature was a mouth, which was opened wide.

  A sudden voice echoed out of it. “Welcome!”

  “Um … Maliban is a statue?” whispered Eric.

  “A shiny silver statue,” said Neal, “that talks.”

  “Have you brought what I asked of you?” echoed the eerie voice.
<
br />   The three kids looked at one another.

  Keeah felt the pouch at her side. “Oh! Of course.” To her surprise she reached in and removed a red ball the size of a baseball.

  It glowed warmly in her hand.

  “The Ruby Orb of Doobesh!” said the statue. “Orb of wonder, Orb of enchantment. Hold it over your head and twirl it three times.”

  Keeah looked at Eric and Neal.

  “Better do what he — I mean it — says,” whispered Neal. “The meanies are all staring at us.”

  Keeah did as the statue commanded. Suddenly — whizzz! — the Orb shot out of her hand, circled the courtyard three times, and flew straight up into the air.

  “Whoa!” said Eric. “I mean, tee-hee! How nice!”

  “The Orb has a special purpose in the future of Droon,” said the statue. “Now, behold!”

  At that moment, guards entered the courtyard carrying all the objects the children had seen in the market. Those, and many more besides.

  They brought in giant urns of water. Floating carpets. Colorful boots that jumped up and down. Spinning plates. Staffs of sparkling light. Swords that flew. Bubbling cauldrons. Books that spoke their words. Bells that jingled by themselves. Golden wands with tips of fire.

  The guards piled these objects at the foot of the statue until there was a huge heap.

  “Magic for Maliban!” shouted the guards.

  And then came something else.

  Two more guards marched in with a big brown sack. Something in the sack was squirming.

  “A girl who knows magic!” said one of the guards. “She did a spell in the streets of Tortu!”

  “Uh-oh,” whispered Eric.

  The guards emptied the sack. Julie tumbled out. She looked around in fear but saw only two strange girls and a hunched-over boy with messy hair. The guards held her tightly at one side of the statue.

  “And now —” said the voice.

  Boom! The doors burst open and there was a scampering of tiny feet. A furry creature scurried in and screeched to a stop before the statue.

  “Whew! Never fear! Hob is here. Oh, the trouble he had! But with a little magic, Hob lost old Galen and his spider troll in the streets!”

  “I hope they’re not too lost,” Neal whispered. “We’re way outnumbered here.”

  “Let the magic begin!” boomed the voice.

  Hob scampered to the statue and in one-two-three moves had set the golden mask over its head. “Nice, don’t you think?”

  The moment Hob jumped away, a thick red swirl of mist shot up from one of the magical objects heaped below. Then another. And another.

  “It’s working!” the statue’s voice cried out.

  Soon, the entire pile of magical objects was surrounded by a red wind, whirling like a small tornado around the statue.

  Whoom! The dark air spun faster.

  “Prepare to witness the greatest act of magic you have ever seen!” shouted the statue’s voice. “I show you this to thank you for bringing me the Ruby Orb. You’ve done well … to help me-e-e-e-e….”

  Eric felt a shock of fear go through him.

  Help me. Help me?

  Vrrrt! The sound of stone grinding against stone filled the air. The back wall of the courtyard slid away and in its place stood a curtain.

  A bloodred curtain.

  “Maliban must be behind the curtain,” said Keeah. “His voice is going through the statue.”

  Eric gasped as the curtain rippled from the spinning red wind.

  “Maliban …” he murmured. “Maliban …”

  Eric stared at the curtain and light flashed through his head. He closed his eyes. He saw a vision of the curtain and in his mind he walked up to it. He reached out his hand, grabbed the heavy cloth, and pulled it aside.

  He staggered back.

  What he saw terrified him. A face … that wasn’t a face. It was something else. It was someone else. Someone Eric knew.

  “What!” he cried. “It was you all the time!”

  “Yes-s-s-s, Eric-c-c-c!” came the hissing reply.

  Eric’s eyes popped open. He turned to Keeah.

  “The mask!” he said. “It’s not for Prince Maliban.”

  Keeah stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not for Maliban,” Eric repeated, “because there is no Maliban.”

  Neal frowned. “Have you been eating the green part of the cheese again?”

  “It’s not Maliban behind that curtain.”

  “Then who is it?” asked Keeah. “Who?”

  The red wind whoomed and boomed as it whipped higher around the statue. As it did, the silver statue itself turned red. The wind coiled higher and higher, nearing the golden mask.

  The curtain rippled. The claw appeared.

  Eric felt hot and cold at the same time.

  But he knew he was right. He knew what his vision meant. Shaking his head firmly, he said, “There is no Maliban.”

  “Then who is it?” asked Neal.

  Eric said a single word.

  “Sparr.”

  Whooom! The dark storm of wind rose higher and higher.

  As it did, the magic carpets flew around the statue. The boots danced and leaped, the bells rang, and the enchanted swords flashed and struck one another.

  “Magic — enter the mask!” cried the voice.

  Keeah turned to Eric. “What are you saying? It can’t be Sparr. He’s miles away from here. Galen saw him in his magic mirror.”

  Eric realized the time had come to reveal his secret. “Keeah, I have power, wizard power, and you gave it to me. Look.”

  He pulled the sleeves of his gown up. He showed them his hands. Blue sparks of electricity twinkled off the tips of his fingers.

  “Whoa, awesome!” mumbled Neal.

  “Not only that,” said Eric. “I’ve been having, I don’t know, visions, I guess you’d call them. I’ve been seeing glimpses of a monster. I’ve finally figured out who the monster is. It’s him. Lord Sparr.”

  Keeah kept shaking her head. “But Galen …”

  Eric remembered the old wizard tracing his finger over the mirror. “I’m sorry, Keeah, but Galen was … wrong.”

  The princess searched Eric’s face. In that half second, her eyes flashed with doubt, then surprise, then understanding. Keeah knew it, too. Galen had been wrong.

  Whooom! The red wind spun faster.

  “But why does Sparr need more magic?” said Neal. “He’s the most powerful sorcerer on Droon!”

  “He was powerful,” said Eric. “When the Golden Wasp stung him, he was hurt. Now he needs magic — all this magic — to get his own power back. Once Sparr wears Hob’s mask — shazam! — he’ll be his old nasty self again.”

  The red tornado of wind entered into the mask. It glowed a brighter red than ever.

  Then one by one, the floating carpets flopped to the ground. The boots stopped jumping. The flying swords crashed down.

  “The mask is stealing the magic!” said Keeah. “All the objects brought here are being drained of power. It’s all going into the mask —”

  “The power!” growled the voice. “Soon it shall be mine again!”

  “We’ve got to free Julie,” said Neal. “And get out of here. Galen was right about one thing. Tortu is a very bad place!”

  Keeah turned to Eric. “We can do this. All of us. Together.”

  The look in her eyes was different from any Eric had ever seen before. She seemed frightened, but she looked at him as if she knew he could do this. And he felt it, too.

  “You guys get Julie,” he said. “I’ll bring down the curtain. Show’s over for this monster! Ready … go!”

  Keeah charged ahead amid a shower of blue sparks. With one swift blast of her fingertips — blam! — she sent the guards stumbling away from Julie. Neal raced up and pulled her free.

  “Guards-s-s, s-stop them!” The voice behind the curtain was more terrifying than ever.

  But Eric was already moving across th
e courtyard. He raised his hands at the curtain, even as the bony claw pulled it closed.

  Eric could hold it in no longer.

  He leveled his hands at the curtain and spoke.

  “Kessa … moot … flah!”

  Instantly, a powerful blast of blue light shot out from his fingertips.

  Kkkk-blam!

  The curtain ripped in half. Its tatters flapped in the wind from the statue. And the thing behind it wriggled and slithered and clomped out into the light.

  It was even more terrible than Eric’s vision.

  “Lord Sparr!” he yelled out.

  “Yes-s-s-s-s!” was the hissing reply.

  Neal fell backward. “Whoa! Talk about ugly! I’m Doofus the Handsome compared to him!”

  Sparr was more monster than man.

  His skin was speckled and dirty and pale, with dark scales over it. On his head were jagged, pointed ears. His spiky tail twitched across the floor. He turned his angry eyes toward Keeah.

  “You!” he hissed. “Princess of Droon. It was you who made me this way.”

  Keeah stood her ground. “I set the Golden Wasp — your own evil creation — against you!”

  “Yes-s-s-s! But after today, I shall be s-s-stronger than ever-r-r-r!” the sorcerer snarled. “It’s s-s-so s-s-simple! The mask draws magic into it. When I wear it, I shall take all this power into mys-s-self.”

  Sparr stared at his twisted claws.

  “And I shall be mys-s-self once more!”

  Julie stomped her foot. “But yourself is so evil! How can you even stand it?”

  “Being evil is the bes-s-st part,” Sparr replied. “But look … the mask is ready!”

  At that moment, the mask became unimaginably bright. The red wind — more like fire now — was entering into the mask, flooding its golden surface with a deeper red glow.

  Sparr slithered over to the statue. Reaching up, he clutched the glowing mask.

  “The power is mine —”

  Boom! There was a sudden crashing sound from outside. The front gates blew off their hinges and a whirl of blue spun into the courtyard.

  “Oh!” cried Hob. “Galen followed poor Hob!”

  Sparr growled. “Galen! Can I never be rid of you?”

  The good wizard’s eyes showed an instant of surprise as his met the sorcerer’s. “Sparr, you fiend, you shall not have the mask!”