Flight of the Blue Serpent

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Flight of the Blue Serpent Page 4

by Tony Abbott


  Sudden shouts and the clatter of sticks sounded over the roar of snowfall.

  “Ha-ha!” said Galen, twirling his staff high. “The dark prophecy? Ha! Ko loses today. Prince of Stars, indeed. There is power left in him still! My boy, we must hurry. Time passes. The storm reaches its peak. We must go from this place! And look there, your sled awaits its passengers. We have things to do!”

  The two wizards, one young, one old, smiled broadly together.

  “Save our friends!” said Eric. “Save the prince. And his blue serpent!”

  The two wizards hopped onto the sled and surveyed the canyon.

  “I see the others,” said Eric. “Our friends are still fighting the Yugs.”

  “And losing,” said Galen. “Are we ready?”

  “Ready,” Eric affirmed.

  Together they leaned forward and — whoosh! — roared across the open snow to the children and the snowfolk. A band of Yugs spotted them in a moment and hurled spears of ice as quickly as they could break them off their shoulders. Eric leaned from side to side, weaving the sled wildly.

  “Eric!” yelled Galen, “do you have a license for this thing?”

  Eric’s laugh echoed across the wastes. “I’m learning as I go! More icemen behind us!”

  “I see them!” Galen said. He whirled his blazing staff around, showered the Yugs with sparks, and fended off each new squad of attackers. Flink! Crash! Bash!

  “Ha! The Prince of Stars! Of course!” the wizard cried. “Not Urik at all. I haven’t felt this young in ages!”

  A sudden flare rose in the distant sky, and the two wizards realized from its flowery shape that it was from Keeah.

  “She’s in trouble,” said Eric. “Trade places.”

  As Galen took the driver’s position, Eric clamped one hand firmly on the sled’s railing. They flew over the snowdrifts, zigzagging around squads of Yugs. Soon they saw the stranded princess surrounded by dozens of shrieking ice warriors.

  “Keeah, get ready!” Eric yelled. He leaned far out, nearly touching the snow. As Galen raced by, Eric grabbed Keeah’s hand.

  “Whoa!” she cried, skiing along behind the sled until Eric managed to swing her onboard. “Thanks for the ride!” she said. “The others are at the canyon pass!”

  Eric saw two groups of ice warriors closing in on the sled from different directions.

  “Hold on!” he shouted. Then he leaned into Keeah, forcing the sled into a spin that shot a blinding arc of spray at both bands of Yugs, pushing them backward.

  “And now for our friends. Thrusters — on!” said Galen, pointing his blazing staff behind the sled. It shot forward with the speed of a rocket, flying right over the ice warriors straight to the band of friends.

  “Hooray!” yelled Max. “We are saved!”

  Together, the spider troll, Julie, and Neal, along with Baggle and a handful of snowfolk, crowded onto the sled.

  With barely a breath, Eric drove the sled toward the canyon pass, while Keeah and Galen together blasted at the snow that blocked the pass — ka-boom-boooom!

  The snow dissolved, and the crowded sled flew onto the open ground outside.

  “To Krone!” shouted Neal as they raced back to the ice city. “Save the snowfolk!”

  But what they saw when they came within view of Krone stopped them cold.

  The ice fields around the city were not barren as before. There were hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of ice warriors marching in step toward the walls. Not only that, groups of Yugs were dragging great ice cannons on sledges across the wastes. The cannons were aimed at the city’s front gate, its most vulnerable spot.

  “How will we get in?” groaned Max. “The whole army of Nesh warriors is here!”

  “I can fly in over them,” said Julie. “But I can’t take us all in.”

  “The Dragonfly!” said Keeah. “Maybe my mother and Friddle have finished the repairs. We can fly over the army and right into the city. Hurry, let’s find them.”

  Driving their sled to where the Dragonfly landed, they found Queen Relna and Friddle patching the last pieces of the plane together.

  “How fares our ride?” asked Max.

  “We know we can take off,” said Relna. “We know we can fly. We can even steer. We’re just not certain we can land.”

  “That’s one of the major parts of flying,” said Neal.

  “The first rule of flying, as a matter of fact,” said Friddle.

  A loud cry went up. “Ayeee!”

  Taking a spyglass from the plane, Galen mounted a snowdrift and looked back toward the city. “The Yugs have arrived at the gates,” he said. “They await only the right moment to attack.”

  In the following silence, Eric heard a sound. Tap … slish … He looked around. Only Galen acknowledged his glance.

  What is that? Eric asked him silently.

  We’ll know soon, said the wizard.

  “Let’s take our chances,” said Keeah. “Friddle, fly us in there!”

  Friddle jumped. “That’s the spirit!”

  Faster than it takes to say it, everyone crowded into the plane. One, two, three, the Dragonfly rumbled across the flat ice plains and lifted. It wove a steady path up, up, up, until its passengers could see directly down into Krone.

  A shriek rose from the Yug troops when they saw the plane. They hacked at the walls, using their hands as hatchets.

  “That is the creepiest thing,” said Julie.

  “No argument here,” said Neal.

  Banking around, the Dragonfly finally dropped inside the city walls. With a bounce, a bump, a scrape, and a thud, the ship came to rest in the center of the village.

  “Yes!” said Friddle. “We made it!”

  Djambo and Mudji rushed to the passengers and helped them out of the plane.

  Together, the two Orkins had done good work. Every wall was manned with snowfolk, each armed with a quiver of snowballs.

  Relna called out, “Any remaining snowfolk, split up. Those whose names begin with A through K, come with me to the east wall!”

  “L through Q, follow me to the northern gate!” said Princess Keeah.

  “The rest prepare campfires to melt snow into hot water,” said Max.

  “We’ll help with that,” said Mudji. “Set up urns at both eastern and northern gates.”

  As quickly as they could, the villagers organized into working brigades. They prepared snowballs and torches and candles and loaded sleds with more supplies in an unceasing train around the inside of the walls.

  “Below us lies the enchanted room,” said Galen. “We must defend the serpent and its master with all our powers —”

  “The cannon!” shouted the snowfolk on the walls. “It aims. Duck! Now!”

  With a terrifying shriek, the Yugs announced the first volley. The ice cannon blasted a great chunk of frozen snow. The northern gate shuddered from the impact.

  A second blast came soon after, then a third and a fourth. Then came the sound of chipping and cracking at the gate. Galen led the largest company of snowfolk there. Eric and Neal were by his side.

  All of a sudden, there came a blast from a different direction. It ripped across the air, resounding from one side of the city to the other.

  A ball of ice the size of a house struck one of the jagged peaks that held the gate. The peak quivered and wavered, then toppled to the ground with a deafening roar.

  With incredible speed the bony ice warriors poured through the broken wall.

  They were inside the city.

  Shards of ice exploded into the city, cracking and shattering against houses.

  Ayeeee! The icemen poured into the breach like a giant wave.

  But Djambo, Mudji, and Max had prepared for this atop an ice tower near the gate.

  At the spider troll’s command — “Now!” — a dozen snowfolk tipped over a giant urn of hot water. It splashed swiftly down the street before freezing into wild waves. The icemen tripped, struck the ground, and shattered into pieces.
It took them minutes to reassemble. By then, more water was in place.

  “Yahoo!” cried Max. “Do it again!”

  Neal and Julie flew to the crumbled gate at the head of a troop of stick-wielding snowfolk. While the two children tossed volleys of snowballs from above, the little snowmen swung wildly with sticks.

  “Yucky Yugs!” yelled Baggle, twirling his club. “Get them good!”

  When the snowballs struck the ice warriors, the snow froze hard and formed heavy, ungainly armor over their bony frames. Under layer upon layer of frozen snow, the Yugs toppled and crashed to the ground.

  “And now the candles!” cried Baggle. “Drop the candles!”

  As yet another wave of Yugs charged in, the snowfolk on the top of the wall took aim and dropped hundreds of small parachutes. Tied beneath each one was a stout candle blazing with yellow flame. The ice warriors dodged to escape the flames, slowing their advance even more.

  Knowing he couldn’t muster more than a weak stream of sparks, Eric ran to help where he could. Then he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

  “Eric, come with me,” Galen said. “There is someone we need to find. Do you still have the treasure safe?”

  Eric’s heart skipped a beat. He slipped his hand under his fur coat and squeezed the pouch. He didn’t dare look inside.

  “Right here.”

  “Our duty to the Prince of Stars is clear,” said Galen. “Soon the storm will split the sky, and the passage will open. We must hurry.”

  Eric glanced around, saw everyone occupied, and gave the old wizard a nod.

  They ran together to a small ice mound at the center of the city.

  “Is this the entrance?” said Eric.

  “I believe it just as you do,” said Galen. He pressed his hands upon the ice, and the outline of a doorway appeared.

  The wizard smiled. “And in we go!”

  With Galen’s staff to light their way, the two fell together into the mound. Inside was a passage that led to more passages. Down, down, and down they went, from one rough staircase to another, into the heart of the underground. By the time they left the last step of the last stairway, the air was hushed and heavy.

  “I douse my staff,” said Galen, twisting his hands. “From here we see with our hearts.”

  Fwish! The two friends were plunged into darkness. The sound of battle faded.

  The sound of everything faded.

  Silence.

  Or was it silence?

  Closing his eyes, Eric thought he heard a tiny sound.

  Tap …

  It was gone.

  “Galen …” he whispered.

  “I heard it,” said the old wizard. “And down below, another sound. Moaning in the tunnels. The serpent lives, but barely. Eric, we shall solve this mystery together.”

  Eric felt that the wizard’s voice was different. He spoke not as a mentor, not as a great old wizard, a champion of Droon, or a fighter for freedom, but as a friend.

  An equal.

  They stepped into the darkness, following the faint sounds. From one tunnel to the next, they went on until the passage opened up into a giant hollow cavern.

  And they saw it.

  A great silver dome rising to the ceiling of the cavern, lighting the air with its glow.

  “The enchanted room!” whispered Galen. “How we two came here earlier, I cannot say. But it is the same room we visited before.”

  It was the same. They knew it instinctively.

  The domed room stood on an island of stone, separated from them by a broad and bottomless chasm.

  Galen stepped to the edge of the chasm and looked one way, then another, until he smiled.

  “What is it?” asked Eric.

  “An old trick,” said Galen. “Come here, stoop low, and look across the edge.”

  When Eric did, he saw the nearly invisible shape of a bridge arching over the chasm.

  “A bridge of ice!” Eric gasped. “Clever.”

  “Clever, indeed,” said the wizard. “The Prince of Stars has picked up a wizard trick or two in his wanderings. I have seldom seen an invisible bridge made so well before.”

  With a deep breath, Galen set his foot out over the open chasm. It came to rest upon the invisible surface.

  “Is it going to hold you?” asked Eric.

  “I certainly hope so,” said Galen. “Now, be careful and follow my steps. The bridge zigzags like a serpent’s tail.”

  Galen seemed to know where to put his feet, and Eric followed. Before long, the two wizards were across the invisible bridge and standing on the stone island.

  The moment they reached safety, the tunnels on the far side of the invisible bridge rang with the sound of cracking sticks and shattering ice.

  Max, Keeah, Julie, and Neal, along with Baggle and a handful of fellow snowfolk, rushed out of the tunnel. A troop of shrieking ice warriors was right behind them.

  “Friends, crouch to the ground!” Galen shouted. With his staff, he fired a sizzling shot, which forced the Yugs back into the passage.

  “Now come to us,” said Galen. He sprayed a handful of dust on the bridge, making it visible for a few moments. The friends hurried across the bridge to the enchanted room.

  “Those creepies will be back,” said Julie.

  “But not all the way,” said the wizard. Then he took his staff and plunged it into the ice bridge. The bridge shattered and fell into the depths of the chasm.

  “We have little time,” said Max.

  The moaning grew in Eric’s ears like a song of pain. He knew that Galen heard it, too.

  “We have no time!” said Galen, turning to the dome. “Eric, do the honors!”

  Closing his eyes, Eric pressed his hands against the wall of the dome. Soon, his fingers found grooves his eyes could not see.

  The Yugs shrieked again from the passage.

  “Friends, be ready,” said Keeah, her fingers flashing with violet sparks.

  But when the Yugs entered the cavern, a flash of green flame sizzled in the air, too. The moment the ice warriors parted, a dark figure stepped forward. He had twin horns blazing with green fire. He had four massive arms. He had the head of a bull, three dark eyes, and an armored body.

  “Ko!” hissed Galen.

  “I came to see the joyous prophecy fulfilled!” Ko boomed with a laugh.

  “You fiend, you came for nothing!” said Keeah. She blasted the ground at Ko’s feet.

  “Eric — now!” said Galen.

  Turning from Ko, Eric pressed hard on the icy wall and — whoosh! — he and Galen fell through to the other side.

  As before, when Eric and Galen had entered the dome, it was impossibly larger than it seemed from outside.

  As before, the ceiling gleamed with stars, the tree in the center of the chamber was exquisitely sculpted, and the birds — three of them — sat in its branches.

  Only now, coiled beneath the silver tree was the enormous blue serpent.

  Its giant head lay on the ground. Its neck, dotted with cutlass-sized spikes, seemed as lifeless as a stone. Its body, coiled around the trunk, was still, though every few moments it moaned in a soft, low tone.

  Eric’s heart thundered in his chest. “It’s the same serpent I saw in my dream. The very same.”

  On the serpent’s neck was a wound, raw and red and the very shape of the snowflake treasure he hoped was still in his pouch.

  In the silence, Eric heard the voice, a bare whisper as if from a great distance.

  Help us …

  The old wizard shot him a look, and Eric knew that he had heard it, too.

  All at once, the tip of the dome slid away, revealing the snow-lashed sky. Lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled without ceasing.

  The storm was nearly at its peak.

  “The treasure, quickly,” said Galen.

  His fingers quivering, Eric loosened the pouch string. He put his hand in and drew it out. The blue scale sat gleaming in his palm. Thank you! he thought. Breathing slowly t
o calm himself, he held out the snowflake to Galen.

  “No,” said the wizard. “It is yours to give.”

  “Mine? Why?”

  “Go,” said Galen. “Hurry.”

  Tentatively, Eric stepped to the serpent. It didn’t move. He held on to a branch of the tree and climbed onto the creature’s back. Its skin was cold. Only now, with his hands touching the beast, could Eric feel its labored breathing, slow, then quick, as deep as the earth, as shallow as a gasp. Carefully, he reached his hand out to insert the snowflake into the open wound on its back.

  But the moment it touched the serpent’s skin, the treasure was no longer a snowflake but the plain disc, the clock-face dial with a blue button he had seen before.

  “What? No … no …”

  Dizziness overcame Eric. He felt cold and hot at the same time. Whether the creature’s skin grew around the disk, whether it drew in a sudden breath of air, or whether he blacked out, he wasn’t sure, but he slipped off and tumbled to the ground at Galen’s feet.

  Someone cried out from beyond the room.

  Galen turned. “Our friends …”

  Was it a cheer of victory? Was it a cry of distress? Eric could not tell. Galen went to the door. He passed through it amid more yells, leaving Eric alone.

  “Wait. Don’t go —”

  Then he heard the voice again.

  Thank you.

  “Thank you …”

  And a man was in the chamber with him.

  If he was a man. He was more like a ghost. A fog. A mist in the shape of a cloaked man.

  When he moved, sparks scattered from him like tiny stars, and the room filled with the sound of harp strings brushed by moving air.

  When the man raised his head, his eyes, as green as emeralds, looked out from his cloak.

  “The Prince of Stars,” gasped Eric. “So it is you!”

  “And what was lost is now restored,” said the prince. “My serpent is cured.”

  His voice, thought Eric, was the very one he had heard leading him to the room with the scroll. The prince approached the serpent, who now glowed with blue light.

 

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