The Legend of Frog

by Guy Bass

  Frog looked down at his sword. After a moment he shrugged and jammed it back into the top of the bipod. He rolled his neck and clenched his fists. “Let’s do this.”

  The Duel

  As rain poured and thunder clapped, Frog and General Kurg circled each other on the surface of the bipod. Frog stared into the general’s rage-red eyes, fear suddenly gripping him like a vice. He glanced down to the chasm below.

  “Die, O Prince!”

  General Kurg raced at Frog, who darted out of the way of his swinging fist. The general swung again and again. After nimbly avoiding two more blows, Frog saw his chance – and swung his fist hard into the general’s stomach.

  “OWW!” cried Frog. It was like hitting stone. He looked up to see the general smile, before swatting Frog across the surface of the bipod. The blow dazed Frog so much he could barely see. He shook his head and spat out a tooth.

  “Who knows? I might even end up with a promotion after this,” said the general, edging carefully towards Frog. “The general who conquered a planet without a prince…”

  He grabbed Frog by the neck and lifted him into the air. Frog swung his fists as hard as he could, raining blows upon the general’s face – but they seemed to bother him even less than the rain. The general took Frog in both hands and raised him above his head, before sending him crashing down on to the unforgiving metal.

  Frog felt his bones rattle as he saw the general’s fist rushing towards his face. He rolled out of the way, the punch missing him by inches – and dragged himself to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the general lunge again and felt his boot strike him hard in the stomach.

  Frog was sent careering across the bipod’s surface. He reached out in the desperate hope of steadying himself – and his hand found the hilt of his sword. His momentum dragged the sword through the metal, tearing through the shell and sending flaming sparks bursting forth. The bipod immediately started to stagger and sway.

  “What is it with you and wrecking bipods?” growled General Kurg, trying to stay on his feet as the bipod reeled. “You’ve stunk up the stabilizers! We’re going down!”

  Frog slid his sword into his belt as the great machine tumbled into the chasm. He heard himself cry, “Abandon ship!” and he and the general leaped into the air, propelling themselves across the gap in the bridge.

  Frog felt time slow down as he reached for the other side…

  “EuOOooff!” Frog grabbed hold of the edge of the bridge and clung on by the tips of his fingers. The general landed clumsily next to him. He clawed at the crumbling stone, desperate to hold on, but his own weight dragged him, screaming, off the edge…

  “General!” Frog cried. He reached out and grabbed General Kurg by the hand. “Hang on! I’ve got you!”

  Frog held on with all his might, but it was not enough. He felt his grip weaken … his fingers slip…

  “Got you, Greeny!” came a cry, and Frog saw a huge, familiar hand wrap round his wrist. In the next moment, he and the general were hauled up to safety.

  Frog rolled on to his back and tried to catch his breath, though every gasp made him want to cry out in pain. He opened his eyes … and saw the face of Man-Lor smiling back at him.

  “Thanks … Lumps,” puffed Frog, weakly attempting a smile.

  A moment later, Princess Rainbow and Sheriff Explosion came into view.

  “Have you finished saving us yet?” asked Princess Rainbow. She helped him slowly to his feet as Man-Lor pinned General Kurg to the floor with a great fur-booted foot.

  “Get your stinking foot off me, you – you native!” cried the general.

  “I am Man-Lor,” replied Man-Lor with a grin.

  “Do you want this back, Greeny?” asked the princess, holding Frog’s sunder-gun out to him. “I don’t want to extinguish you any more.”

  “That’s good to know,” Frog replied as he reached for the gun. “I’ve had enough extinguishing to last— uuUHH!”

  Frog was sent hurtling to the ground. Something had landed on top of him, driving him into the stone.

  “Did someone call for a doctor?”

  It was Doctor Kull. She had leaped across the gap in the bridge and now stood over the stunned Frog, her sunder-gun drawn.

  “You think you get to decide my fate, Frog? I will not end up as a protein bar,” hissed the doctor. She aimed at Frog’s head. “Foolish prince – you should have stayed inside that egg…”

  “That was my egg!” cried Princess Rainbow. She looked down at the sunder-gun in her hands – and threw it as hard as she could. It flew through the air and bounced off the doctor’s brow.

  Doctor Kull howled in pain and surprise. She stumbled backwards towards the bridge’s shattered edge and plummeted into the chasm. Her blood-curdling cry echoed through the mist and the darkness – and then faded to silence.

  The princess picked up the sunder-gun and carried it back over to the sprawled-out Frog. “Told you I knew how to use it,” she tutted.

  The Calm After the Storm

  The storm passed as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Frog in no doubt that the rarewolf had come to his aid.

  By the time the last drop of rain had fallen, Frog was back on his feet. Man-Lor and the princess had already tied up General Kurg. In what the princess considered to be a fitting tribute to a great wizard, they had bound him with Oldasdust’s robes. Even Sheriff Explosion played his part – by chewing lazily on the general’s boot.

  “You think this is over, Frog?” said the general. “You think King Kroak will let this planet go unconquered? You haven’t saved anything! Don’t you see? You have only delayed the inevitable! This is just the beginning! The End of the World is upon you, Prince Frog!”

  “What’s he saying now?” huffed the princess.

  Frog swallowed hard. “Nothing important,” he replied.

  “Gibby-gobby-goo-talking gobbin,” tutted the princess. “Pull the robes tighter, Champ’un.”

  “Baa,” agreed Sheriff Explosion.

  Frog made his way back towards the edge of the bridge. He stared up at the ruined palace, not quite able to believe what had happened.

  “Mummy and Daddy are going to be really grumped about this,” sighed the princess, following behind. “You prob’ly shouldn’t be here when they get back.”

  “I really am sorry,” replied Frog. “And thanks for saving me from the evil outer-place doctor, and for not extinguishing me when you had the chance.”

  The princess shrugged. “You saved me too, I s’pose…” she said. After a moment she added, “And it was nice to have someone to talk to for a bit … Prince Frog.”

  “Just ‘Frog’ is fine,” replied Frog. “I don’t think I want to be an excellent royal prince any more.”

  “What are you going to do if you’re not a prince?” asked the princess. “Are you going to live in a pond on a lily pad?”

  Frog let out the smallest of laughs, even though it made every bone in his body hurt. He turned away from the palace and towards the Not-So-Ended World. Beyond the patch of blackened skies, bright shafts of golden light shone down over valleys, hills, mountains, seas – a whole world that he had thought was ended, a world that he might just have saved.

  He puffed out his chest as far as he could manage. “First, I’m going to go home,” he replied, staring out over the mountain. “Buttercup will probably be wondering where I’ve been all this time and I have a lot of questions to ask her. I think she knows more than … she … wuh?”

  On a distant rocky outcropping, Frog spotted a large, dark shape, staring directly at him.

  “The rarewolf!” he said. He managed to lift his arm enough to give a painful wave. “Thanks for the bad weather!” he cried.

  The rarewolf seemed to nod, then it turned slowly to the side – and Frog spotted something on its back.

  Someone was riding it – as if it was a trusty steed. Frog peered more closely.

  The figure was tall and slender, with long, dark robes flowin
g in the wind. It had large, bulbous, yellow eyes and a smooth, hairless head. And its skin…

  Its skin was green.

  “What the … what?” said Frog, as the rarewolf and its passenger sloped off down the mountain. Frog shook his head.

  “Baa.”

  Frog looked down to see Sheriff Explosion peering up at him.

  “It’s been nice knowing you, too, Sheriff,” said Frog. “But you’re free to go. Now I’m not doing the whole royal prince thing, I can’t ask you to be my trusty steed.”

  “Baa?” replied Sheriff Explosion.

  “Maybe it wants to be your trusty steed anyway,” suggested Princess Rainbow. “’Cause it’s stupid.”

  A smile spread across Frog’s face.

  “You know what, Princess? Maybe you’re right,” he replied. “Maybe he’s just proud to carry the outer-place, invader-defeating saviour of probably the world on his back! Let’s go, Sheriff Explosion!”

  With that, Frog leaped on to his trusty steed. “To the island! Giddy up! Giddy, I say!”

  Sheriff Explosion did not move.

  “Oh, come on, we’ve been through this – what sort of trusty steed doesn’t do any steeding?” said Frog.

  After a moment, he sighed and hopped off. “Fine – but I am not carrying you,” Frog huffed.

  “Baa,” said the sheep.

  The Sixty-Four-Thousand-Polished-Sandwiches Question

  Frog closed his book. He pulled his red cloak around him and began to chew on the piece of chalk in his hand.

  “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-polished-sandwiches question, isn’t it?” he said. “What am I going to do now?”

  He sat up and looked around. It was a bright, frosty morning and both the sun and moons hung in the sky. To the east was a forest of blue-leaved trees, overlooked by a crescent-shaped rock. To the west, rolling crimson-red hills gave way to a range of jagged, snow-covered mountains. Frog watched a family of mammoth oak-lice make their way across the distant horizon, as ancient as the trees they carried on their backs. Nearby, yapping bark larks dived for whistle fish in a trickling river. Frog glanced over to see a woolly white sheep grazing lazily on the riverbank.

  “What would you do, Sheriff Explosion?” Frog asked, hopping over to his trusty steed. He tore a clump of frosted, lime-green grass from the bank and fed it to the sheep. “I mean, if you didn’t want to be a prince but you were still definitely the most excellent, skilled-up outer space someone in Kingdomland and probably the whole, entire universe? Would you just let all that mightiness go to waste?”

  “Baa,” replied Sheriff Explosion before chewing on the grass.

  “Neither would I,” replied Frog. He peered into the river and saw his reflection looking expectantly back at him. His round, hairless head and bulbous, yellow eyes seemed strange and otherworldly … his bright green skin decidedly extraterrestrial. Frog realised how much like the aliens he must look - how like the Kroakan invaders who, two days earlier, had tried to destroy the world. He wasn’t sure he liked what he saw.

  “Buttercup will know what I’m supposed to do – she always knows how to make the right choice,” he concluded. “I’ve met princesses, wizards, aliens … and yet Buttercup’s still my only real friend around here.”

  “Baa?” Sheriff Explosion bleated.

  “You’re a trusty steed – that’s different,” replied Frog.

  “Baa,” the sheep sighed.

  “Anyways, I need to tell Buttercup the world hasn’t ended!” Frog added. “So, we follow the river until we reach the giant waterfall in the sky – then it’s just a long, mighty swim to the top and a quick froggy-paddle to the farty little island. Pfff… Never thought I’d be going … back … wuh?”

  Frog had spotted something in the river – a small, black shape submerged under the water. At first he thought it was some sort of turtle-stone … but as he peered closer he realised it was a reflection. Frog spun around and looked up. A small, oil-black orb floated in mid-air above him. It rotated constantly on its axis, emitting a low, breathy hum and sparking with green light.

  “Baa?” said Sheriff Explosion.

  “What is that?” murmured Frog as the spinning orb buzzed around him like a bumbleflea. Suddenly it swooped under his legs and over his head – so close that he was sure it would hit him. It stopped dead in the air, inches from Frog’s face. It seemed to be looking at him. A chill ran down Frog’s spine. The orb was oddly familiar. He reached out a hand to touch it.

  WHiiiiiiSHT – SHUNG!

  Frog felt something whistle past his head, and the orb vanished before his eyes. He turned to see it pinned against a tree, a long arrow protruding from the trunk.

  “Yoiks…” squeaked Frog. He edged towards the tree as the orb sparked and fizzed its last. Cautiously, he reached out and stroked the arrow’s feathered tip. “Yoiks! That’s some skilled-up arrow action … unless it was aimed at me. Hey! Was that aimed at me?”

  Frog looked behind him – and then up and up, over the top of the blue forest, following the arrow’s trajectory. There, standing on the edge of the high, crescent shaped rock…

  “The rarewolf!” Frog cried. The great, grey wolf stood motionless, as huge as a horse. Squinting, Frog could make out a slender, green-skinned figure perched upon its back. Frog had seen the figure once before – albeit from afar – sitting atop the rarewolf moments after Frog saved Princess Rainbow and probably the whole world. But this time he could see exactly what it was.

  A Kroakan.

  An outer space alien invader.

  At first he thought it must be General Kurg (the only Kroakan to survive the invasion attempt) but the General was locked up in what remained of the royal palace. And anyway, this Kroakan was female and more slender than any of the Kroakan invaders. A chill ran down Frog’s spine.

  “What the … what?” he whispered. The rarewolf huffed and began to slope down the outcropping. The Kroakan rider adjusted a longbow on his shoulder. Then he turned back and gave Frog a nod.

  “Wait! Come back!” Frog cried. He turned to his sheep. “My big bucket of questions is bursting, Sheriff! Who is that mystery Kroakan? Why is she riding the rarewolf? Why has the rarewolf not eaten her? What the bumbles is going on? Unless— Wait! Unless she’s put some outer space alien evil eye on the rarewolf and turned him into her trusty slave. Full-on badness! Grab your things, Sheriff Explosion!”

  Frog quickly collected all his worldly goods. They numbered:

  One journal, in which Prince Frog recorded his adventures in the third person One sunder-gun, Prince Frog’s outer space alien invader ray pistol One invincible magic sword (named Basil Rathbone) given to Frog by a dying wizard with a very tall hat

  Frog holstered his sword and sunder-sun and shoved his journal into the back of his Catastrophe Pants – his (rather tatty) End of the World-proof shorts.

  “Let’s go, Sheriff – the chase is on!” cried Frog – and disappeared into the forest.

  “Baa…” sighed Sheriff Explosion.

  About the Author

  Guy Bass is an award-winning author whose children’s books include Secret Agent: Agent of X.M.A.S, the Dinkin Dings series and, most recently, the highly acclaimed Stitch Head series. In 2010, Dinkin Dings and the Frightening Things won the CBBC Blue Peter Award in the ‘Most Fun Story with Pictures’ category. Guy’s books have also won a number of local book awards.

  Guy has also written plays for both adults and children. He has previously been a theatre producer, illustrator and has acted his way out of several paper bags.

  Guy lives in London with his wife. He enjoys long walks on toast and the smell of a forgetful sparrow.

  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 2014.

  Text copyright © Guy Bass, 2014

  Illustrations copy
right © Dynamo, 2014

  Cover illustration copyright © Jonny Duddle, 2014

  eISBN: 978–1–84715–538–2

  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