by Guy Bass
“Man-Lor is happy,” he said. “I am Man-Lor.”
With the Defeat All Foes Team complete once more, Frog set about putting things right. He gathered them together with the bragons and the Kroakans.
“I was thinking about the rarewolf’s prophecy,” he said. “I think maybe I should save the world now.”
“I think that would be a wonderful idea,” smiled Kryl.
“So, for my first order, I command all Kroakans to pack up their traceships and leave Kingdomland!” Frog declared. “Send them all back to Kroakas. And get me some sandwiches! Anything except turnip…”
“At once, Your Majesty,” replied Major Krung, and made her way back into the Farthership.
Frog smiled.“I’m telling you, Kryl, being King is the easiest business ever!” he said.
“It’s a good start, but this is bigger than Kingdomland,” Kryl began. “King Kroak sent a thousand armies to a thousand worlds. Those worlds are being conquered as we speak.”
“But … can’t I just order them to leave, too?” Frog asked.
“It may not be that simple,” Kryl explained. “The sons of King Kroak will not be happy to surrender their worlds. Don’t forget, they have all been trained as merciless conquerors, and you are ordering peace. You may have a rebellion on your hands…”
“Pfff – I’ll bring out their inner champions! You’ll see, I’m going to peace-up the whole universe! I’m going to … going to…” Frog trailed off. He looked around and sighed a long sigh. “I’m going to have to leave, aren’t I?” he said. “I’m going to have to leave Kingdomland.”
The Legend Begins Anew
“Silly Greeny! You can’t leave Kin’domland!” the princess protested. She pointed to the Kroakans as they made their way back up into the Farthership. “The ay’luns can go home on their own. We have to stay together because we’re the Pretty Princess Lovely Biscuit Team! In fact, I command you can’t go. I command you stay here and … be my friend.”
Frog smiled. “I’ll still be your friend, even if I’m a million miles away … maybe even a hundred,” he assured her. “But I’m a full-on outer-space ruler now. I’ve got heaps of saving stuff to do. And I get the big spaceship, so…”
“But I don’t have any other friends,” the princess said, kicking the scorched earth with her foot.
“Oh, really?” Frog added. He pointed behind her. There was Nigel and Susan (who for some reason were holding claws with each other) plus Old ’n’ Graham and the remaining bragons, all waving back at them. “I bet they all want to be friends with the actual Princess Rainbow.”
“They can live at the palace!” she squealed with excitement. “They can be my special proper royal friends! We can do tea parties and dressing up and play with my pocket mummy and daddy!”
Princess Rainbow raced over to the bragons, eager to give them the good news. Frog shook his head and laughed.
Before long, fresh pots of tea had been brewed and Frog, Princess Rainbow, Nigel, Man-Lor, Kryl and the bragons drank to their lost comrades with a cup of tea. Then the princess made a special toast to her “fluffiest, wuffiest, bestest pet ever”. Frog smiled and raised his cup to the rarewolf.
“So, are you sure you’re ready for this, Frog?” Kryl asked. “Are you sure you’re ready to be King … to take on the universe?”
“Ready? I’m The Mighty Frog! It’s my destiny,” he replied.
Kryl saw something gripped in Frog’s hand – a small cube with a green button set into one side.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“This? This is…” he began. He peered at the button for a moment, and then slipped it into his pocket. “Just in case.”
With that, Frog turned and made his way towards the Farthership.
“Wait a minotaur!” he cried suddenly. “What about—”
“Baa.”
Frog spun around to see Sheriff Explosion trot out of the crowd towards him. He knelt down and ruffled the sheep’s woolly fleece as it nuzzled his chest.
“I could never forget you, Sheriff! Trusty steeds don’t come along every day,” he said. Then he stood up slowly. “But this is where we go our separate ways. Sheeps don’t belong in the outer-space place – it’s a full-on void of blackness and cold. I’m setting you free, Sheriff. Go … chew grass … do sheep stuff … find a Mrs Sheriff and make lots of little Explosions. You’re free!”
“Baa?” bleated Sheriff Explosion. He stared at Frog for a long moment … and then turned to go.
“Pfff – like I could save the universe without my trusty steed!” Frog cried. He grabbed the sheep under his arm, drew his invincible sword and raced up into the Farthership. “Come on, Sheriff Explosion! The legend begins anew!”
“Baa…” sighed the sheep.
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2015.
Text copyright © Guy Bass, 2015
Illustrations copyright © Dynamo, 2015
Photographic images courtesy of www.shutterstock.com
eISBN: 978–1–84715–624–2
The right of Guy Bass and Dynamo to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
www.littletiger.co.uk
The Island on the Edge of the End of the World
Frog replaced his quill pen in the inkpot. “Now for Chapter Two.”
“What are you writing, Frog?”
Frog slammed his book shut. He turned to see Buttercup’s head poking round the door. She looked nothing like Frog. She did not share his bright, mottled green skin or his bulbous yellow eyes. She had ears and a nose – which Frog lacked – and long, brown hair, while Frog had not a single hair on his head. In fact, Buttercup looked decidedly human – there wasn’t a hint of anything amphibian about her. But then Buttercup had not hatched from a golden egg.
“I’m – uh – I’m just writing down our story,” replied Frog. “About the golden egg and the mighty prince.”
“It’s most royal of you to practise your quill-craft,” she said, “but it’s past both our bedtimes and we have a big day tomorrow: the flower needs watering, the potato needs picking, the clouds need counting…”
“We did all that yesterday – and the day before,” huffed Frog.
“We could always practise your camouflage,” Buttercup suggested.
“What do I have to hide from? There’s no one here but us,” said Frog, unleashing a loud and deliberate sigh. He hopped down from his chair and into bed.
“So, what story would you like?” said Buttercup, as she tucked him in. “I could tell you about the time I rode the Queen’s newnicorns? Or the time the King out-farted the imp-O-lights? Or when the sunbirds gave the Queen a ray of light for her birthday?” She glanced at Frog’s story. “Or about the golden egg that hatched a mighty prince…”
“You could tell me about the End of the World,” Frog said.
“Again? There’s nothing more to tell,” Buttercup sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Scorched earth … blackened skies … catastrophe.”
“Catastrophe,” repeated Frog, in a reverie. “Does anyone live there?”
“Of course not,” sighed Buttercup. “How could anyone live at the End of the World?”
“I don’t know, it’s just – I’m a prince,” said Frog. “Do I really have to stay
on this island forever? It feels like I’m meant for something more … princely.”
Buttercup stiffened. She took a deep breath and looked at her feet. By the time she looked up she had put on a smile. “What did you dream last night? Do you remember?” she asked.
Frog remembered his not uncommon dream immediately. “I was in the sky, higher than everything, higher than the stars, looking down on the world,” he replied.
“Did it feel real?” she asked. Frog nodded. “So, can you fly higher than the stars?”
“No, but—”
“No. Just because you feel something doesn’t make it real,” said Buttercup quickly. “You were destined to be a great ruler, Frog – I’m sure you would have been. But that world is gone. The World has Ended. We and this island are all that is left. I brought you here and built you a home and kept you safe. It’s just you and me, forever and ever.”
“I know, but … forever is ages,” huffed Frog.
Buttercup let out a chuckle. “You’re a good boy, Frog,” she said, kissing him on the head.
Frog knew what she would say as she put out the lamp – she had said the same thing every night since he’d hatched from his golden egg.
“Sleep well, Royal Majesty, Lord of all Kingdoms, Rightful Ruler of the World … Prince Frog.”
