by Guy Bass
“So, is everyone ready?” he asked, piling up talisman-filled boxes next to the front door.
The motley assortment of creatures in the Omnium Gatherum stared back at him in silence. It comprised:
Princess Rainbow! Daughter of the King and Queen of Everything, heir to the throne of Kingdomland, wearer of sparkly dresses.
Kryl! Kroakan Keeper, reluctant space invader.
Nigel the bragon! Many-named boast-beast, lover of flying and tea.
The Rarewolf! Ancient, snow-allergic storm god, last of his kind, currently stuck halfway between the royal palace and the Omnium Gatherum.
Man-Lor! Barbarian, furry-panted protector of Princess Rainbow, secret poetry writer.
Sheriff Explosion! Sheep in high heels.
“May I be the first to say, this plan sounds altogether fatal,” said the bragon.
“I agree,” added Kryl. “It’s too dangerous. Even if it works – which it can’t possibly – you’ll be putting yourself in mortal danger.”
“Worst plan ever!” echoed the rarewolf from the doorway.
“I like your stupid plan, Greeny,” said Princess Rainbow. “I b’lieve in it.”
“That’s ’cause it’s a bold and thrill-venturous plan! Whether it works or not,” concluded Frog. He took off his cape and collected the corners into a sack shape. Then he scooped a large handful of talismans from one of the boxes and filled the cape. “Timing is everything – and excellent magicals,” he added, taking a last talisman out of the box and popping it into his pocket. “And we’re going to need a lot of flying time, Nigel – you’ll have to fill up.”
“Fine…” sighed the bragon. “But I’m only doing this because you sort of slightly saved my life, by gosh.” He took off his spectacles and placed them on the blue table. Then he ran his claws through his plume of purple hair. “The Duke lives to fly, by gosh … for the Duke rules the sky!” His voice was suddenly booming and resonant.
He opened the front door and stepped out on to the porch as he began to swell. “The Duke’s legend is known from the Lesser Lakes to the Higher Plains! The Duke could outfly a hundred sunbirds with his wings in chains! The Duke could zoom to the moon without catching cold! The Duke could soar into the sun and come back with a tan! You stand before the Quotable Gloatable, Sir Bestalot, the Baron of Bravadonia, Unimpeachable Maximus, Grandiloquence Gasconade … Duke Bombastion the Many-Named!”
“Baa!” bleated Sheriff Explosion encouragingly, as the bragon expanded at an alarming rate.
“The Duke is twice as strong as you, barbarian!” he said, pointing at Man-Lor. “The Duke is ten times more fearsome than you, rarewolf! The Duke’s bogies are a hundred times greener than you, Kryl! The Duke is a thousand times more sparkly than you, Princess!”
“I don’t like the bragon any more,” the princess grumbled, folding her arms huffily.
“The Duke is a million times mightier than you, Frog!” the bragon continued, filling like a balloon.
“Keep going!” insisted Frog.
“A billion times mightier! A jillion! Is a jillion a number?” cried the bragon, swollen to bursting point. “Can’t … boast … any more!”
“That’ll do!” cried Frog. Frog twisted the top of his cape full of talismans and flung it over his shoulder. Then he raced out of the front door and leaped on to the bragon’s back. “Everyone remember the plan!”
“Frog, wait!” cried Kryl. She rushed over to him, and produced Frog’s magical sword from inside her robe.
“You … dropped it in the caves,” she said. “I thought you might need it.”
“Thanks – I think I might,” Frog replied, taking the sword and sliding it into its scabbard. A moment later the bragon leapt out of the doorway.
The Battle in the Sky
“WAaaA-HOOO!” cried Frog, hanging on to the bragon’s scarf as they soared majestically through the air.
“You will at least try not to get us killed, won’t you?” pleaded the bragon.
“Just take us as low as you can!” Frog replied. “But don’t spend all your air!”
BUU-U-RRRRRP!
With a thunderous belch, the bragon let out half his air and immediately began nose-diving towards the ground. The clouds were gathering fast, and it took them a moment to get a close look at the Kroakan camp. Frog counted ten traceships on the ground.
“Lower!” cried Frog.
“If we get any lower, they’ll spot us!” insisted the bragon.
“Weren’t you listening to the plan?” said Frog. “That’s the idea!”
“Were you not listening when I said I was a coward?” The bragon sighed. “Just hang on tight…”
BUURRRRRP!
The bragon plunged downwards, swooping over the Kroakan camp. Frog looked down and saw the oil-black hulls of the traceships below them. He held out his cape full of magical talismans. “Closer!”
“This feels pretty close, truth be told!” shrieked the bragon.
“Just hold it steady!” cried Frog. He took a deep breath and opened his cape, scattering the talismans over the tops of the traceships.
The enchanted stones exploded upon impact, creating a plethora of magical effects – a fireball, a flash of light, a shower of spiralling fireworks. One talisman sprouted into a mighty tree in the blink of an eye, whose branches engulfed one of the traceships, swallowing it as the trunk reached skywards. Another traceship was turned completely inside out, expelling its pilot like a gob of spit. A third stone caused living skeletons to appear from out of the ground and flay the invaders with bony fingers, and a fourth created a tidal wave, which swept a dozen Kroakans down the valley.
“Yoiks… Excellent magicals,” whispered Frog in awe. He looked back to see the Kroakans in turmoil. Some tried to find cover, while others opened fire on their own ships.
“We’re under attack!”
“Reality is unfolding!”
“Shoot everything! It’s the only way to be sure!”
“That got their attention, Nigel,” cried Frog. “Now get us out of the valley!”
“That part of the plan I like, by gosh,” muttered the bragon – but the Kroakan troopers turned their attention upon this strange, unknown flying object.
As the bragon sank ever closer to the ground, sunder-beams streaked past his head, setting fire to his hair plume. Frog frantically patted out the flames as the bragon shrieked in terror. But after a few more wing beats, the sunder-beams started to miss their mark entirely – they were out of range. Frog looked back again. From inside one of the traceships, he saw a huge figure emerge – bigger than any Kroakan he’d ever seen.
“Yoiks…” Frog muttered. “Who is that?”
Frog saw the giant Kroakan draw a sunder-gun and take aim.
“No way,” said Frog. “We’re too far away. We’ve got to be too—”
Frog saw a flash of green energy – and felt a searing pain shoot through his right arm. He cried out, barely managing to hang on.
“Frog!” cried the bragon, as Frog held on for dear life.
“I’m fine! Go!” cried Frog, glancing at the smoking burn on his arm. He dared to look back one more time, and saw the Kroakans man the remaining traceships. In seconds, all ten of them had taken to the air.
“They’re following us, Nigel – the plan’s working!” said Frog. “Now climb!”
“I’m out of air!” the bragon replied. “I’ll never get high enough!”
“Boast, Nigel!” cried Frog. “Boast … boast like the wind!”
“I … I … I…!” began the bragon, in a blind panic. “I can’t think! My mind’s gone blank!”
Frog heard the low, grating hum of the traceships grow louder as they gave chase.
“You can do it, Nigel! You’re mightier by a million! Say it!”
“I-I’m mightier by a million…?” muttered the bragon, unconvinced.
“Keep going!” said Frog. “You’ve just baked the quiche of defeat and everyone’s getting a slice!”<
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“I-I’ve just baked the quiche of defeat … and everyone’s getting a slice!” repeated the bragon – and started swelling.
“You’re going to move into a house of victory and use them as a welcome mat!” said Frog.
“I am! I’m going to move into a house of victory and use them as a welcome mat!” yelled the bragon, the hot air filling him.
“You’re the mightiest champion of—!” Frog began.
“The Duke is the mightiest champion of Kingdomland ever!” hollered the bragon, swollen to balloon-like proportions.
“It’s working!” Frog cried. As they rocketed towards the cloudline, Frog peered upwards. The hum of the traceships was still growing louder – they were seconds away. “The cloud’s too thick – can’t see the house … Come on, Kryl, where are you?”
Rays of green lit up the sky, as the traceships opened fire. The bragon howled, banking and spinning wildly to avoid the rays. One of the traceships broke formation, zooming ahead. It raced towards them, sunder-beams blazing … it would be on them in seconds.
“We’re not going to make it,” Frog whispered to himself. He winced in pain as he wrapped the bragon’s scarf around his wounded arm. Then he drew his magical sword. “Nigel! Tuck in your wings!”
“But—” began the bragon.
“Do it! Do it now!”
As a sunder-beam seared his tail, the bragon pulled his wings into his body, slowing enough that the traceship raced over the top of them, almost close enough to touch.
Do your thing, Basil Rathbone! Frog thought, thrusting the blade into the traceship as it passed overhead. The invincible blade sliced along the length of ship, cutting through the thick metal like it was butter, sending fire and sparks exploding from within. The traceship veered away and spun helplessly to the ground.
“OK … that was pretty mighty,” Frog admitted with a grin.
“One down, loads to go!” howled the bragon, frantically searching the skies as the remaining traceships gained fast. “Where’s the house, by—?”
Suddenly, the Omnium Gatherum burst through the clouds, soaring through the air towards them, banking and weaving as if it was drunk.
“There they are!” cried Princess Rainbow from inside the blue house. She pointed out of the window as the bragon appeared in their sights. “Down there, that way!”
“I’m trying! I’ve never piloted a house before…” replied Kryl, wrestling with the wooden handle as she navigated the Omnium Gatherum through the sky. “Open the doors and get ready… Wait ’til the bragon passes!”
Outside, the bragon put himself on a collision course with the house. He could see the princess and Man-Lor waiting at the open door.
“Get underneath it, Nigel! We have to time this just right…” yelled Frog. With the smallest of burps, the bragon pumped his wings and swooped underneath the house. Frog saw blue stone rush over his head. He glanced in the gleaming blade of his magical sword and saw the reflection of the traceships…
“Now!”
He and Kryl and the princess cried out at the same moment.
Man-Lor added, “I am Man-Lor!” at the top of his lungs – and pushed the stack of blue boxes out of the door. In that moment, the traceships passed underneath the house, sunder-beams blazing, the boxes exploded on their metal hulls, detonating every one of the hundreds of talismans within.
The effect was magical.
The myriad explosions of light, sparks, fireworks and flame was enough to temporarily blind the traceship’s pilots. One immediately veered off into another, sending them both spiralling out of control … by which time the effects of the spell-binding talismans had taken effect on the other traceships.
“Yoiks…” muttered Frog. He saw one traceship unravel like it was made from strips of silk; the second exploded into a million bright, white roses; the third was stretched so thinly it disappeared; the fourth turned to ice; the fifth to wood; the sixth to lemon jelly … and the seventh became a colossal, burpy turnip.
In the end, not a single traceship remained in the air.
“They did it … they did it!” Frog cried. The bragon flew alongside the house as Princess Rainbow stuck her head out of the window.
“Look, Greeny!” she shouted, pointing to the transformed and transmogrified traceships that plummeted to their doom. “You’re stupid plan wasn’t even that stupid!”
“What did I tell you? Excellent magicals!” he grinned, giving her a thumbs-up. “Now let’s get down there and do some saving.”
The Major
By now, the Kroakan troops on the ground were panicking. They had just seen their entire fleet of traceships meet strange and unbelievable fates in the skies above them. They found cover behind rocks and took aim with their sunder-guns. Only one of the troopers remained out in the open – the giant Kroakan who had shot Frog stood directly in front of the prisoner-filled energy dome.
“Major Krass!” cried one of the troopers. “Our traceships are gone! What are your orders?”
“Shut up, for starters,” replied Major Krass in a deep, gravel-crunching growl. He was unfeasibly wide and bulky – and almost twice as tall as General Kurg. His sleek, black armour seemed unable to contain him, as he drew an oversized pair of sunder-guns. “I’ll handle this.”
The major watched the bragon swoop down from the sky and land in front of him.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Nigel whispered to Frog, who still clung on to the bragon’s scarf. “I’ve got no air to spare…”
“Trust me,” replied Frog. “I need to do this.”
He leaped down from the bragon, his wounded arm hanging limply by his side. The Kroakan troopers gasped to see their prince standing before them – two even kneeled down. But Major Krass did not flinch.
“I am Frog!” he cried. With his good arm he pointed at the dome. “Free the prisoners! I seriously mean it!”
“I am Major Krass of the Army of a Thousand Sons,” thundered the major. “Spawn Five-One-Three, I presume. I heard you rebelled … I didn’t realize you’d gone native. Are you wearing furry shorts?”
“They’re actually super-warm on my rump-end,” admitted Frog. “Now I mean it – release them, or else.”
“Or else what?” asked the major, unimpressed.
“Yes, or else what?” whispered the bragon, nervously.
“Or else, that,” Frog answered, and looked up. The blue house floated down from the sky above them, casting a shadow over the troops as it hovered in the air. “There’s enough excellent magicals up there to mess up your whole business – just like we messed up your traceships! Now release the prisoners!”
“The sunder-dome remains closed,” replied Major Krass, matter-of-factly. He pressed a button on his sunder-guns and shimmering blades of green energy appeared from their barrels. “If you want the prisoners, you’ll have to take them. From me.”
“Frog, don’t!” came a cry. Frog looked up to see Kryl’s head poking out of the window. “You have nothing to prove!”
Frog let a long, heavy sigh leave his body. “Yes, I do,” he said. He straightened himself up, took a deep breath of cold morning air and slowly drew his sword with a quivering hand. Then he fixed his gaze upon Major Krass. “I’m warning you – these furry shorts aren’t just for show. I’m a full-on barbarian.”
The Major’s bulbous yellow eye twitched. “Then fight me … ‘barbarian’,” he replied.
Frog gripped his sword tightly. “I’m going to get medieval on you, Krass.”
The Barbarian
“RaaAAAArgh!” cried Frog, bounding towards the major, his sword drawn. Krass brought his sunder-swords to bear. In a single, fluid movement he parried Frog’s sword stroke and spun around with a kick, sending Frog flying into the scorched earth.
“Frog!” cried Kryl and Princess Rainbow.
“RaaAAargh!” Frog cried again, leaping to his feet, his eyes flooding red. He threw himself at Krass, but this time the major deflected Basil Rathbone wit
h both sunder-swords and brought an elbow up into Frog’s face.
As Frog felt one of his teeth shoot to the back of his mouth, Krass kicked out with a giant knee. Frog flew through the air again and skidded along the rubble-strewn ground.
“King Kroak doesn’t care whether I bring you in dead or alive, Spawn Five-One-Three,” said Krass. “But you’ll take up less space in my ship if you’re dead.”
Frog struggled to his feet. He leaped at the major a third time. With one sunder-sword, the major sent Basil Rathbone flying out of Frog’s hand and though the air. Then he brought the other blade down across Frog’s face.
Frog cried out, tumbling to the ground, a burning cut across his left eye.
“Urgh!” grunted Frog, more from pain than rage. Once again, he dragged himself to his feet – but this time Major Krass simply stomped him back into the rubble. Frog tried to get up… And again he found himself pushed face first into the ruins of the valley.
“This world will burn, rebel,” said Major Krass, grinding Frog with his foot. “The traceships are already scorching every corner of this pathetic planet. I don’t know what you see in it, I really don’t…”
Frog squealed as the Major rolled him on to his back with his foot.
“So, trust me when I tell you, Spawn Five-One-Three, I am going to destroy everything you ever cared about,” the major continued. “I will set this world alight, and bring unbridled misery to its people. And I’ll do it all before breakfast.”
The major squeezed the last breath out of Frog’s lungs with a huge foot.
“And even after you are dust, I will make it my mission to bring suffering to everyone that ever mattered to you on this world. I will tarnish your memory and ruin every good thing you ever tried to do. Because I love my job. Because I can.”