by Tony Abbott
“They dare not attack us here,” said Anga.
“They dare,” said Julie. “The Skorth are bad that way.”
“We will destroy you!” shouted Nok. “Forward, my men — come to us!”
The jungle floor teemed with fearsome Skorth warriors. Within minutes, they had surrounded Anga’s palace.
“Now!” bellowed the Skorth leader.
The bony warriors began chopping at the palace walls. And the tower began to tip.
With no wind or rain or lightning to stop them, the Skorth hacked viciously at the tower. It teetered from side to side.
“There are hundreds of them,” said Julie.
“Thousands!” said Neal.
“Lots!” agreed Pinch. “And they aren’t nice!”
Keeah knew what she had to do. “Anga, there’s … something in my sandal. Could you hold the wand for a second?”
“Certainly, dear,” said the weasel king, taking up the wand again.
“What are you doing?” whispered Pinch.
“Adding a new phase,” Keeah whispered back.
Hack-hack-hack! The Skorth slashed at the palace. Chunks of it fell to the ground.
“That — makes — me — so — angry!” boomed Anga.
His ears shot straight up like iron plates. The tuft of silver fur coiled into wiry, fire-tipped spikes.
Lightning flashed from the wand.
“His anger is the storm!” said Julie.
“Except that it’s not just a storm anymore,” said Neal. “Look….”
A funnel, darker than the darkening sky, as dark as night itself, swirled across the sky. It was heading straight for the jungle. It was growing bigger and wider as it tore toward them.
“A hurricane!” cried Pinch.
As Anga’s face grew more menacing, the storm broadened over the whole of Doobesh. It flailed at the sea as if trying to turn it upside down. Rain and wind slashed at the ships.
“Give us the wand!” Nok demanded.
“You shall not have it!” Anga boomed, his voice as thunderous as the storm itself.
The distant wail of a Skorth horn pierced the storm’s increasing howl. This time it wasn’t a battle call. It was a distress call.
“The storm is sinking our navy!” growled Nok. “Forget the wand! Save our fleet!”
“Back — where — you — came — from!” cried Anga. “All the way back!” Thrusting the wand at the warriors, he produced a wind as strong as an iron wall. It thundered at the Skorth, hurling them head over bony heels all the way out of the jungle to the shore.
The skeleton warriors barely made it back up the gangplanks before Anga’s hurricane blew the entire navy — twenty ragged ghost ships — helter-skelter back toward the Horns of Ko.
One ship after another was dashed against the giant stones and onto the sharp cliffs. Planks shattered. Masts fell. Ferocious winds ripped the ships’ ragged sails to nothing.
The shrieks and wails of the Skorth sailors could be heard all the way back at Anga’s throne tower. The storm kept on until the great smashing stones closed behind the ships, sealing them from the Sea of Droon.
“Behold the wrath of Anga!” boomed the weasel leader.
“Yahoo!” shouted Neal. “Your trick worked, Keeah!”
Anga whirled around. “Trick? What trick? I don’t like tricks —”
“Now you’ve done it,” said Pinch, shaking his head.
Anga growled fiercely, and the storm tore right back through the jungle. It stopped right over the tower.
Lightning blasted at them, and the tower began to fall apart.
“It’s out of control!” said Neal.
Take — the — wand! Keeah said silently.
In a flash, the three kids — and Pinch — leaped on Anga. Together they wrestled him all the way to the ground below the tower, where, with one powerful move, Keeah clamped her hands on the Ruby Wand.
“But — it’s — mine!” Anga wailed.
“Sisters — now!” yelled Keeah.
BLONG-G-G-G!
A flash of blinding light exploded and Anga was heaved to the ground. “Owww!”
The witches Hagdy and Magdy stood right over the weasel king. In his hands was what appeared to be the Ruby Wand. But Keeah knew it was not.
She knew it was not, because at that very moment, she held the real wand behind her back.
As Anga waved the new wand, the clouds vanished into a bright blue sky, the sun blazed down, and the storm was no more than a memory. The Sea of Droon was as calm and bright and smooth as a sheet of glass.
Anga smiled. “Well! I suppose I really am the most powerful tree weasel in all of Droon. Not only have I defeated the mighty Skorth, but I can finally control the weather!”
Laughing, he waved the wand at the sunny sky above. “I’m quite the best!”
“Yes,” said Pinch. “Yes, you are.” Then he leaned over to Keeah. “He may not even notice. At least, not at first. But we thank you.”
Keeah and her friends looked at the black and choppy waves of the Serpent Sea and saw the Skorth navy limping back to the horizon.
Pinch turned to the kids. “So I guess you’re actually them, aren’t you?”
“Them who?” asked Neal.
“The Knights of the Ruby Wand,” said the weasel. “Which is fine. Me and my men don’t want to be. Never did.”
“I don’t think I’ll really be needing you,” Anga told the children. “Not with all my newfound power. This calls for an official ceremony. Bow. Please.”
This time, the children bowed happily as Anga tapped their shoulders with his wand.
“I dub thee Knights of the Ruby Wand!”
Suddenly — pop-pop-pop! — three baby dragons appeared next to the children.
“We couldn’t resist,” said Magdy. “I guess we still do have a little magic left.”
“And because I’m older, I have a little more!” said Hagdy.
The baby dragons squealed in unison, then flew off into the jungle.
A blue flare exploded overhead, and a sudden bright laugh echoed down from the top of the cliffs. On the deck of the windwagon, Max, Hob, Batamogi, and Khan were leaping up and down.
“We’ve done it!” Max called down to Keeah, Julie, and Neal. “We’ve got Eric’s cure!”
Keeah’s heart beat faster. They were closer than ever to helping Eric. She smiled, remembering the strange way he had helped her today.
She turned to her friends. “We’ve won this time. But we can’t rest. There are now only three days left before Gethwing attacks Jaffa City. We need Eric here with us.”
“And Galen,” said Julie. “Let’s do what we need to do.”
“It’s the perfect time for Phase Nine,” said Neal.
“There is no Phase Nine,” said Keeah.
“There is now,” said Neal. “It’s called The Singing of the Theme Song!”
And before his friends could stop him, Neal launched into his song. As before, the first verse was all about him. But the second was all about his friends.
“Through thick and thin they go,
And battle every foe
From Plud to Silversnow.
They’re best of friends … ho … ho!”
Julie laughed. “Getting better, Neal, but don’t stop working on it.”
“Are you kidding?” he said. “This is just the tip of the iceberg —”
“Please, no,” murmured Pinch.
And so, after saying good-bye to the tree weasels, Neal and his friends sang all the way up the cliff to the windwagon and to their next adventure.
Text copyright © 2010 by Tony Abbott
Illustrations copyright © 2010 by Scholastic Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.
SCHOLASTIC, LITTLE APPLE, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First printing, February 2010
Cover art by Tim Jessell
e-ISBN 9
78-0-545-41851-5
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