The Mask of Maliban

by Tony Abbott

With that, Galen sent a bolt of blue light hurtling from his hands.

  KLA — BAMM!

  The statue exploded and the golden mask skittered away from the sorcerer like a spinning top.

  “Now we have you!” shouted Galen.

  Another blue bolt of lightning burst at Sparr’s feet, sending him tumbling away.

  Sparr slithered back behind the tattered curtain and the wall closed behind him.

  Galen rushed after him in a tornado of anger. “I shall stop you, Sparr!”

  Instantly, the green guards charged at Galen. “Stop the wizard! Protect our master!”

  As if angry with himself, the wizard battled like a warrior half his age. He was everywhere at once! Hooded guards whooped and wailed as he tossed them aside with blast after blast.

  In the confusion, Hob scurried out of the way and grabbed the glowing mask. “When wizards and sorcerers fight, poor little Hob takes flight!”

  But he hadn’t counted on one thing. Max. Seeing his master battling the guards so fiercely, Max leaped for Hob and tussled with him.

  Hob growled and scrabbled with the spider troll but finally sent Max flying across the room — splat! Chuckling with glee, Hob pulled a carpet from the stack and plopped down on it.

  “By the powers of ancient Goll, I command this carpet to fly!” he cried.

  At once, the mask glowed and the carpet lifted. With one swift swoop, the imp flew up and over the wall of the courtyard, yelling, “Fly, carpet, fly!”

  “Hob is escaping!” the wizard yelled, still battling the green guards. “We must get the mask. Hurry!”

  “You heard the man,” said Eric. “We’ve got a job to do!”

  Eric ripped off his blue gown and pulled Neal with him onto one of the lifeless carpets. He tugged on the fringe. The carpet just sat there.

  “It’s just a regular rug,” said Neal. “The magic is all drained out of it —”

  “We’ll see about that!” said Eric. He tucked his legs beneath him, closed his eyes, and touched the rug with his hands. Breathing deeply, Eric tried to find the quiet little room in his mind that Keeah had told him about.

  Instantly, all the sounds of people yelling and running seemed to drift away. Eric felt peaceful and calm. And words — strange new words — sounded in his ears. He couldn’t tell why or how he heard them, but he did.

  And he spoke them aloud.

  “Carpundem … sello … flee!”

  Neal blinked at him. “What does that mean — whoa!”

  The rug rose from the ground.

  Eric opened his eyes and laughed. “I guess it means ‘carpet up!’ And now —” He pointed over the courtyard wall. “Preddo … va!”

  “Can I quote you on that?” said Neal. “Yikes!”

  With a sudden jerk, the carpet shot across the courtyard, skimming right over the heads of the green meanies.

  “Hey, taxi! Wait for us!” Julie yelled as she, Keeah, and Max ran across the courtyard.

  Eric circled overhead. “I’ve only been doing this for twelve seconds! I don’t know the command for slow down! Or land! Or stop!”

  “Then we’ll just have to come up to you!” shouted Julie. She grabbed Keeah’s hand, and with Max clinging to her back, she jumped.

  Boing! Julie leaped out of the courtyard. A single bounce of her magic boots was all it took. They plopped right onto the flying carpet with Eric and Neal.

  “Hold on tight, you guys!” Eric shouted. “We’re in for a bumpy ride!”

  Vooom! In a flash, they soared over the palace and out above the streets of the market.

  Already Hob was rounding a far corner and entering the deep maze of shops and stalls, snorting and laughing the whole way.

  “Oh, you want to race, do you?” said Eric. “Ree-bo!” he urged his carpet. It went faster.

  “We’ll have to go into the streets to catch him,” said Keeah. “Better get down there.”

  Voom! They dove under an arch into a shop with magic swords dangling from the ceiling.

  Swish! Clang! Slooop!

  “Quickest haircut I ever got!” said Max, rubbing his orange hair. “There’s Hob. Take a left!”

  The fringes of Hob’s carpet disappeared around a corner.

  “Shortcut over the house!” said Julie, and Eric swooped the carpet up over a rooftop.

  Faster and faster they flew, past shops, under arches, and bouncing down the narrow streets. But still Hob kept pulling away.

  “All the magic in his mask is making the carpet faster,” said Keeah.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll catch him,” said Eric. He felt the power surge through his body. It wasn’t only in his fingers now but all through him. He felt more powerful than ever before.

  “Oh, no!” cried Max, pointing to the tiniest of archways up ahead. “We’ll never make it!”

  “Tilt!” Neal urged. Everyone shifted their weight and — zooom! — the carpet twisted sideways through the opening, with inches to spare.

  “Good call, Neal,” said Keeah.

  He grinned. “Hey, I’m only Doofus the Ugly on the outside. On the inside, I’m Doofus the Smart. Now hit it, Erica!”

  The five friends huddled close as the carpet swooped and soared. The cool night air rushed over them as they skimmed the rooftops.

  And still Hob outflew them.

  “The magic from the mask is too strong,” said Keeah, the wind flying wildly through her hair.

  Eric nodded. They snaked into one curving street and up between a fruit stall and its awning. They crashed through a string of hanging lights, scattering shoppers who shook their fists at the kids. But Eric wouldn’t let up.

  Finally, Hob yipped and yelled and soared over the city walls and out over the turtle’s shell.

  “Okay, now we can really fly!” shouted Eric.

  “Except for that,” said Neal. “What’s that?”

  A wall of black fog rolled across the darkening plains in front of them. And the turtle was approaching it.

  “The Dark Lands!” said Keeah. “Tortu is entering Sparr’s country. We’re too close. Turn back.”

  “We can’t stop now,” said Eric, following Hob’s every move even as he entered the fog.

  Thick darkness rolled over the friends.

  “Slow down at least,” said Julie.

  Eric gulped. “I sort of don’t know how!”

  The carpet bounced and dipped. It tilted and sank. Heavy black air swam all around them.

  “Are we up or down?” Neal coughed.

  “I’m up,” said Max, his voice trembling. “Now I’m down. Now I’m sliding off!”

  Julie screamed. “Help, I’m falling!”

  “We’re going down!” yelled Keeah. “Eric, we’re —”

  Vooom — crash! The carpet slammed to the ground, scattering its riders across the turtle’s hard shell.

  Eric rolled and tumbled and slid until he stopped in a heap. Black smoke and fog whirled around him.

  “Where am I?” he said, feeling dazed. He shook his head to clear it. “Keeah? Julie? Max? Are you there?”

  There was no answer.

  The fog was so thick and smoky, Eric felt as if he could hardly breathe. He struggled to his feet.

  He could feel the turtle moving, but he didn’t know which way to go. The gloom around him was as thick as night.

  Then he heard a noise.

  “Keeah?” he said. “Neal, is that you?”

  Something slithered toward him across the shell. Then it clomped and thumped.

  “Oh, no …” Eric backed away.

  “Don’t be afraid, Eric. It’s-s-s only me-e-e-e!”

  Eric’s heart sank as the black air cleared and he saw the monster that was Lord Sparr.

  “Welcome to my world,” said the sorcerer.

  Next to him was Hob, holding the glowing mask and grinning as if he were at a picnic.

  “What do you want with me?” asked Eric.

  “Much,” said the sorcerer. “But first, you shall se
e what few have ever seen.”

  Sparr took the mask from Hob, the terrible glowing mask full of power, and clutched it tightly. “You shall see me become … me!”

  Before Eric could move, the sorcerer pulled the golden face over his own monstrous features.

  And he began to change.

  His rough lizard skin shrank into the familiar black cloak. His front claws shriveled into pale bony hands, his hind legs into booted feet.

  Sparr’s face was hidden, but beyond the jutting horns of the mask poked the eerie fins that grew behind his ears.

  “I … am … coming … back!”

  As the sorcerer drew the power into himself, the mask’s reddish glow dimmed. A moment later, the mask was no more than a dull gray piece of metal. It was Sparr himself who glowed.

  Shimmering all over with the fiery light that had once been in the mask, Sparr stretched his arms and flexed his fingers. He seemed to ripple with new energy.

  “Behold the power of me!” he said, laughing. Then, with a casual movement, Sparr tore off the mask and threw it to the ground.

  “Hob did his job!” squeaked the imp. “Sparr shall pay him now!”

  Laughing, the sorcerer tossed Hob a heavy bag of coins and Hob began to dance around.

  It was then that Eric saw the red mark on Sparr’s forehead. It was a jagged V-shaped scar left by the sting of the Golden Wasp so long ago.

  “You know what?” said Eric. “You’re still a monster. A crusty old wicked thing. Somebody should stop you. Somebody will —”

  “Ah, yes, but who?”

  Eric felt his hands grow hot. His fingertips felt as if they could flash out at any second. He shook his head from side to side, his anger growing. “Galen will stop you.”

  “Galen!” Sparr spat out with a laugh. “His skills are failing. Have you noticed how old he looks? His enchantments are losing their power. He makes mistakes. Ah, well. It’s because of where he was born.”

  Where he was born? What did Sparr mean?

  Eric narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to hear that Galen was wrong. That he made mistakes. That he was getting old.

  Sparr took a step toward Eric. “Soon, I shall overpower both Galen and the princess, and reclaim what is rightfully mine —”

  “You won’t!”

  “I will,” said Sparr. “And you — Eric Hinkle from the Upper World — you shall help me.”

  The words echoed in Eric’s head.

  Help me….

  Eric’s blood boiled. “I’ll never help you.”

  “You will find what I seek,” said Sparr softly. “My spirit friend, Om, told you so. He said you will help me, and you shall. But you haven’t told anyone about Om, have you? You like your small powers, don’t you?”

  Small powers?

  “Well, then, it’ll be our dark little secret.”

  Eric shivered. Every part of him was hot and cold at the same time. He felt his hands tremble. “The darkest thing here is your brain,” he said.

  Hob giggled. “The boy jokes with Sparr!”

  Sparr stepped closer, but he wasn’t laughing.

  Eric’s fingertips ached with a pain he had never felt before. But something else was happening, too. Even trembling, Eric felt … calm. He looked at Sparr and, though he was afraid, he knew what he had to do. To try to do.

  “Tell me, Eric Hinkle,” the sorcerer began. “Shall we be partners? Hmm? Yes or no? One simple word.”

  “The only word I have for you is … is …”

  “Is what?” said Sparr, beginning to laugh.

  Eric stared at the red mark on Sparr’s forehead. His mouth opened.

  “Bubb … zee … doo! Wait, that’s not right —”

  Suddenly — splop! splop! splop! — the air was filled with jelly doughnuts! They hung in the air for a moment, then — thwack! — they hurled themselves at the sorcerer!

  Ploop! Splort! Plish!

  They splattered Sparr’s jet-black cloak with big drippy blobs of red jelly.

  “Oh, Sparr likes that cloak,” said Hob. “Boy has made a mess of it.”

  Sparr stopped laughing. He touched the jelly dripping down his cloak. His eyes flashed.

  “So, you can do things, can you? Yes, you pass the test, Eric Hinkle, young wizard!”

  Eric’s mind was a blank. All he could think of were doughnuts and jelly and tiny birds.

  Sparr went on. “Together, the two of us —”

  “Wait! Did you say … together?”

  Then, as if a soft familiar voice in Eric’s head spoke the words, they came to him.

  “Septum … conda … ro!”

  “What! What?” the sorcerer sputtered.

  But blue light had already left Eric’s fingers.

  K-k-k-k — blam!

  The sorcerer fell back, staggering to the turtle’s shell. The look on Sparr’s face showed surprise.

  “Who taught you that?”

  Eric didn’t bother to answer. Another blast shot from his fingertips. And another and another — blam! blam! blam! Sparr fell back farther, nearly stumbling to his knees.

  “So I guess I failed your test!” said Eric.

  “I AM LORD SPARR! SORCERER OF GOLL!” Sparr bellowed. “Help me or not — I shall teach you a lesson, you pip-squeak!”

  Hob giggled and danced around. “Hob likes that word! Funny word, pip-squeak!”

  In a flash, Sparr rose up, towering over Eric, fire spitting from his eyes, his fins sharper and spikier than ever and turning from red to purple to black.

  From out of nowhere Sparr pulled a jagged fireball the size of a basketball. But it didn’t stay that size for long. It grew larger and redder and hotter until it seemed the size of a small planet.

  “Big ball of fire,” said Hob. “Hob doesn’t like that so much!”

  “Oh, y-y-yikes!” Eric stuttered. He fell back, his hands sparking feebly. “Uh-oh! Don’t … please don’t! You know, I can really only do the doughnut trick. And sometimes make erasers fly. But just for a minute, then they fall. And there’s the chalk dust. It makes you cough. Really, I don’t know much about anything —”

  Sparr only laughed and launched the blazing fireball at Eric’s head.

  KLA-BAMMMM!

  The explosion threw Eric hard to the turtle’s shell. He felt sudden heat on his face. The sound of the fireball thundered in his ears.

  Then there was nothing.

  Eric opened his eyes.

  Lord Sparr was rising away from him, spinning around and around in a funnel of black wind reaching up to the clouds. With a loud crackling noise, he vanished into the night sky.

  Hob, his large eyes darting around, whimpered, then — pop! — he, too, disappeared.

  Eric struggled to his feet. “Wow! Did I actually do that? I mean, I did do it! I actually did it!”

  “Not quite,” said a low voice behind him.

  Eric swung around. Behind him stood the old wizard, his wrinkled hands stretched to the sky.

  It was Galen who had saved him.

  A moment later, Keeah, Julie, Max, and Neal came staggering out of the fog.

  “So I didn’t actually blast Sparr?” said Eric.

  “You nearly got toasted and fried,” said Julie.

  “But the doughnuts were a good idea,” added Keeah.

  “Yeah,” said Neal. “I hope the Dark Lands have washing machines. Sparr will need one for that cloak of his!”

  “Come, children,” said Galen. “While the sorcerer gathers his strength to strike again, we must find the turtle’s tail. If Tortu enters the Dark Lands completely, we shall be lost, too. Hurry!”

  With the wizard leading the way, the six friends took off toward the back edge of the shell.

  The giant turtle seemed to pick up speed as they hurried along.

  Finally, they burst through the ragged fog and came out under a twinkling sky.

  “I see the tail!” said Julie. “Straight ahead.”

  At top speed, th
e six companions raced and jumped off the shell. They landed on the turtle’s tail and ran down the length of it. When they got to the end, it flicked up and sent them flying.

  Splat! Plomp! Wuff! Oomp! Eeee! Thwap!

  They landed in the tall grass of the Thousand Mile Plains just as the tail — and the city of Tortu itself — vanished into the black air of Sparr’s dark country.

  “Tortu is gone,” said Max. “Every bit of it.”

  “Even Julie’s magic boots,” said Neal.

  Julie looked down at her bare feet. “Oh, man.”

  Suddenly — flop! plop! clunk! Three things fell to earth from where the turtle’s tail had been. Two of them were Julie’s sneakers. The third was small and red and rolled to a stop in the grass.

  “The Ruby Orb of Doobesh,” said Keeah.

  “Ooh!” Max scrambled over to the ball. He picked up the glowing Orb. “Galen, may I have it to read by at night? Or to find what drops under my bed?!”

  The wizard scanned the smoky air where the turtle had vanished, his brow furrowed in thought. “There is a reason the Ruby Orb remains. Let’s bring it back to Jaffa City with us. Perhaps we can discover Sparr’s plans.”

  Then the wizard sighed. “My friends, I was wrong about Sparr. My mirror is old. I am old.”

  “Ha!” Max protested. “You are the one who sent Sparr spinning away like a bad memory!”

  Galen smiled sadly. “Perhaps, yes.”

  The evening lit up with a rainbow glow. The enchanted staircase was hovering over the grass nearby.

  “I guess it’s time,” said Neal. “But I don’t want to go home. It was fun today. Mostly.”

  Eric knew the time had come for him to leave, too. When they reached the staircase, he turned.

  “Galen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone I have powers. I just wanted them to last longer. It was fun having them. At least at first. But I’ve learned my lesson.”

  The wizard looked into Eric’s eyes. “I knew from the moment you came today that you had powers. Five hundred years as a wizard gives one a sense of such things.”

  Eric held out his hands. The sudden light from his fingertips cast a blue glow on his face.

  “Anyway,” he said, “I shouldn’t have powers. I got them by mistake. You can take them back.”