The Tower of the Elf King

by Tony Abbott

  “Talk?” said Keeah.

  “Why yes,” said Friddle. “When it plinged just now, it called my name. You just have to learn to listen. Ah, there!”

  The harp suddenly sparkled with a rainbow of colored stones.

  “See here?” he said, pointing to the first stone. “This shows the castle where your mother was born. And here is the cottage your father built for her —”

  “That’s where I found the harp!” Keeah said.

  “Yes, yes,” Friddle murmured. “This dark one shows Sparr’s fortress, where something terrible happened.”

  “She was cursed there,” Keeah said softly.

  “And here … hmmm.” He stopped.

  “What is it?” asked Khan, leaning over.

  “A white falcon,” Friddle said.

  Keeah peered closely at the stone. “That’s what my mother became when she was cursed.”

  “Next to it is a blue dragon,” Friddle said. “And next to that is … a …”

  “What?” asked Eric, craning his neck for a better look. “I can’t see.”

  Friddle held the harp up to the light. “It’s a ruby. It shows … a … red … tiger.”

  Keeah gasped. “A red tiger! That must be what she is now!”

  The Maker sighed. “But look. Two stones are missing. When you find them, you will know the next shapes your mother will take!”

  As Eric watched her, Keeah began to smile even as her eyes blinked back tears.

  “A red tiger,” she whispered. “I’ll search all of Droon to find her.”

  Friddle smiled at her. “I daresay you will.”

  He pushed and pulled the buttons and levers on the control panel. “And … there it is!”

  Eric squinted through the cabin’s opening at a dark shape twisting up from the red dunes.

  A giant tower.

  “Wow, that’s one big tower,” Eric said. His knees felt weak just looking at it.

  Khan squinted at it. “Is that ugly tower where my treasure is?”

  Friddle nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  The tower was ugly. The outer walls were made of large slabs of metal. And all the way to the top were Ninns — hundreds of them — hammering the slabs sloppily together.

  “Don’t tell me we’re going in there,” Neal mumbled softly.

  Julie nodded. “We’re going in there.”

  “I asked you not to tell me that!” Neal moaned.

  The cart gathered speed as the tower loomed ever closer. Eric and Keeah peered through the slit in front.

  “Um … just a suggestion,” said Eric, “but shouldn’t we slow down?”

  “Why?” asked Friddle as the cart sped faster.

  “Because … we’re going to crash!” Neal cried.

  “Ever hear of crashing a party?” Friddle said. “Gryndal certainly won’t invite us in, so hold on to your seats. We’re — going — in! Khan, good chap, press that button, would you?”

  The Lumpy king pushed a red button on the panel. Flink-flink! Two large metal horns popped out of the front of the cart.

  They looked like bull’s horns.

  “What are those for?” Julie asked.

  “You’ll see!” said Friddle.

  The wagon raced over the dunes. Faster and faster and faster it sped, until —

  “Holy crow!” Eric yelled. “Hold on!”

  Crunch! The horns on the cart pierced straight through the outer wall of the tower!

  Plink! A small door popped open in the front of the wagon. Stale air poured into the cabin.

  “I think we’re inside,” Friddle whispered.

  “And still alive!” said Eric as they crawled through the nose of the cart and into the tower.

  Friddle remained behind. “I’ll draw the Ninns’ attention away from you. You’ll be safe to search for your treasure. Good luck, my new friends!”

  Keeah slung her harp firmly over her shoulder and shook Friddle’s small hand. “Thank you for helping us. And thank you for making my harp even more precious to me. We’ll see you again soon. That’s a promise!”

  “I hope to be of service, Princess Kee-Kee!” Friddle pulled his wagon away and turned it. Instantly, a troop of Ninns jumped down from the tower and gave chase as the wagon sped away.

  “Quickly now, children,” said Khan firmly. “Before we are discovered.”

  Thwam! Clonk! Thwam! Clonk!

  The sounds of iron banging on iron echoed inside the tower. Dozens of red-faced Ninns were gathered around a blazing fire in the center.

  “I know the Ninn lady gave you meatballs, Eric,” whispered Julie. “But these guys look pretty mean.”

  Eric nodded. “Yeah. Plus they’re working for a very bad dude. We can’t forget that.”

  Some Ninns took giant pieces of iron from the fire and banged them into slabs using huge double-headed hammers.

  When the slabs were cool, some other Ninns dragged the pieces up a long, circular stairway.

  The kids looked up. The black walls continued up as far as they could see. The stairway circled the inside wall all the way to the top.

  “The Ninns haven’t seen us yet,” said Keeah. “Let’s get as far as we can before they do.”

  “That plan gets my vote,” said Neal. “Ninns with hammers are not my favorite thing.”

  Julie looked around. “First rule of towers: The bad guy always lives at the tippy-top.”

  “Second rule,” said Khan. “That’s where he keeps his loot. Now, come on. I can almost smell my crown.”

  Eric gulped as Julie and Khan jumped into the lead. They slid onto the stairway and climbed up quietly. Neal and Keeah were next, then Eric.

  The higher they climbed, the more wobbly the stairs seemed to become.

  “I have a question,” Eric whispered to Keeah. “Why is an elf king building a tower? Friddle told us that elves like to live in the ground.”

  Keeah shook her head. “I don’t know. But I think we’ll find out when we get to the top.”

  The top. Right. Eric knew they were going there, but he didn’t like wobbly stairs. Especially because at every complete turn of the tower, there was an opening to the outside. He could see the ground getting farther and farther away.

  “Slow and steady,” Eric said. “No sudden movements.”

  Then the stairs began to shake.

  Neal turned. “The Ninns are coming! Look!”

  Six Ninns were dragging a slab of iron up the stairs. They hadn’t spotted the kids yet, but they were getting closer.

  “We can’t go down,” said Julie. “The Ninns will see us.”

  Khan looked toward the top. “The Ninns will bring that slab all the way up. We can’t hide there, either.”

  Keeah bit her lip and looked around. Finally, she looked down at the stairs themselves. “We can’t be on the stairs when the Ninns come by. So there’s only one thing to do.”

  “Jump?” asked Eric. “Please don’t say that.”

  Neal laughed. “No, dude. I think what Keeah means is … we need to hide under the stairs.”

  “Under?” said Eric. “But how?”

  “Everyone, take hold of my harp,” Keeah said, holding it out. They did.

  “Harp, under the stairs!” she said.

  Then the harp — with all five of them clinging tightly to it — floated out beyond the stairs and quickly ducked beneath them.

  The children dangled in the shadows.

  Stomp! Stomp! The Ninns were getting closer.

  “Oh, I don’t like this,” said Eric. “Not at all.”

  The Ninns tramped heavily overhead, scraping and dragging the iron slab upward. They pulled the slab through an arched opening and began to hammer it into place.

  Clonk! Clang! Boom!

  After what seemed like hours, the Ninns finally trudged back down the stairs to the bottom.

  The harp quickly floated the kids back up.

  “Um, that was fun,” Eric murmured. “Not.”

  Julie pointed
across the open tower to the stairs on the far side. “The steps end at a door. It must lead to Gryndal’s hideout.”

  They took the last few turns together.

  “My treasure is near,” said Khan.

  Keeah put her finger to her lips and pushed open the door. The room inside was bare.

  The treasure was not there.

  But something else was.

  Gryndal. King of the elves.

  His ugly, scaly back was to them.

  His tail, which appeared to have grown back, was swishing across the floor.

  Gryndal stood in the center of the room, gazing out a small round window.

  As the kids slid in, Neal’s bag of spoons touched the narrow doorway. The bag made the slightest of sounds.

  Clink.

  It was enough.

  Gryndal whirled around. “What!” he shrieked. “You scared me!”

  Eric blinked. “We scared … you?”

  Gryndal tried to blast them with a breath of fire. But — pooof! — the force of the blast knocked him backward. He toppled to the floor.

  Clonk! His leg fell off. Then one of his arms went flying. His tail crumpled and skittered across the room.

  Gryndal tried to get up, but something gave out a loud snapping noise. He toppled again. That made his head — the head with three red eyes and a fire-breathing mouth — fall backward like a helmet off his neck. His chubby pink neck.

  Gryndal sighed. “Oh, fumbly-bumbly!”

  The kids stared at him.

  “Whoa!” Neal gasped. “He’s fake!”

  “Don’t come any closer!” Gryndal snorted.

  Khan and Keeah edged over anyway. Neal, Eric, and Julie crept up behind them. They kept staring.

  Gryndal was not a monster anymore.

  Instead of a scary scaly face, there was a plump pink one. Whiskers stuck out of a thick, flat nose with three nostrils.

  His legs and arms were short, and his hair stuck out in wispy patches across his forehead.

  He had a curled tail with little bumps all up and down it. He wore a baggy orange suit.

  And he was the size of a turkey.

  Khan gasped. “Of the twenty-seven kinds of elves, you must be — a hog elf!”

  “Aha!” said Neal. “The pig nose! I knew it!”

  Gryndal waddled out of the pile of monster parts. “Very funny, very funny,” he snorted.

  His voice was snuffly and growly. He wiped his nose on his orange sleeve and looked helplessly up at the kids.

  “Oh, let me at him!” Khan growled, but Keeah held him back.

  “Why the monster costume?” she asked.

  “Ha!” Gryndal snorted. “Do you think the Ninns would obey me? Build a tower for me — a hog elf? Pah! They are scared by glowing eyes and puffs of fire!”

  “Uh, so were we,” said Julie. “A little.”

  “A lot,” whispered Eric.

  “But now,” the elf went on, “I no longer need the Ninns. My tower is nearly finished. The treasure is on top. And I shall soon be gone!”

  “Gone where?” asked Julie. “Up?”

  Gryndal snickered and looked nervously out the window. “Perhaps …”

  Eric looked out, too. Clouds lay like a fluffy carpet below them. Below them.

  “Looks like we caught you just in time, then,” said Keeah. “We want our treasure.”

  “Yes!” said Khan. “Give it back right now. My people need it — it belongs to them.”

  Gryndal looked at them. It seemed as if he was going to speak, then he turned away. “I have a duty to my own people, too. That sorcerer Sparr cursed me and my fellows.”

  Gryndal paused to look out the window again.

  Why does Gryndal keep looking out? Eric wondered. What’s going to happen?

  “It was terrible!” the hog elf went on. “One whole year Sparr kept us cursed in the stone mills of Feshu.”

  “Sparr is gone,” said Julie.

  “That’s what ended our curse,” Gryndal said. “But we found ourselves far from our home of Morka. I need that treasure to fly home.”

  Keeah frowned. “Fly home? How?”

  “The soarwings!” Gryndal said. “Giant birds who live in Morka but circle Droon once a year. They fly above the clouds, only stopping for shiny things. That’s why I needed the treasure to get their attention.”

  Eric glanced around. The room’s ceiling stood thirty feet overhead. Above that was the top of the tower. Where the treasure was.

  The only way up there was out the window.

  They’d have to get up there somehow. Gulp.

  Hanging from stairs is one thing, thought Eric. But climbing up the outside of a tower that’s higher than the clouds?

  “I need that treasure!” Gryndal insisted. “Because — look! The soarwings are coming!”

  The kids rushed to the window.

  Far in the distance were two enormous birds. Their giant, bright-feathered wings flapped slowly as they made their way over the clouds.

  It was too much for Khan. He jumped up and down, crying, “Give me my crown!”

  “Not till I’m through with it!” the hog elf replied. He put his chubby fingers in his mouth and puffed. Instead of fire, a sharp whistling noise came out. Eeeee!

  An instant later, his six fellow elves pounded through the door behind the kids. They swished their palm leaves back and forth.

  “I think we’re outnumbered,” said Neal.

  “Come, my elves!” Gryndal announced. “We are going home. And no one shall stop us!”

  Suddenly — blam! The door burst open again. This time, five Ninn warriors stomped in.

  They were red-faced, they were huge, they were mad.

  And they weren’t wearing dresses!

  The Ninns looked at Gryndal. Then at the pile of monster parts. Then at Gryndal again.

  “You are hog!” one Ninn grunted. “Ugly hog!”

  The elf king wiped his nose. “Well, yes….”

  “Tower is finished!” said another Ninn.

  “Give us treasure now!” grunted a third. “You made promise.”

  Khan jumped. “You promised my treasure to the Ninns?”

  Gryndal shuffled to the window. “I had to! I needed my tower built!”

  Eric didn’t know whether to feel sorry for Gryndal or not. His enemy was Lord Sparr. That put them on the same side. But he stole the Lumpies’ treasure, and that was bad.

  The Ninns glanced at one another. They grumbled for a while. It seemed like they were deciding what to do next. Then they stopped.

  Eric guessed they had made up their minds.

  “We get you!” the Ninns shouted.

  “Stay away from me!” Gryndal squeaked. “Or I shall roar like … like … like the red tiger!”

  Keeah gasped. She trembled. She screamed, “STOP!”

  Everyone did stop. Even the Ninns. They all stared at Keeah. She stepped over to Gryndal.

  “Did you say … the red tiger?” she asked.

  Gryndal slid closer to the window. “The red tiger. Yes, I saw her. They say she was a queen cursed by Sparr. I know where she is.”

  “She is my mother!” Keeah shouted. “Tell me what you know! Tell me every­thing!”

  The elf king looked out the window. The birds were flying closer. “Well, I would, but you see — I must go. I must go — now!”

  In a flash, Gryndal climbed out the window.

  “Wait!” Keeah cried. She bolted out after him.

  The six hog elves followed her.

  “I guess it’s our turn,” said Julie. “Come on!”

  But the Ninns came back to themselves. They blinked and growled and got mad again.

  “Get children,” they shouted. “They help Gryndal! They are enemies of Lord Sparr!”

  The red-faced warriors drew their swords.

  “Oh! Big swords!” Khan said. “Very big!”

  “Get back, you dudes!” said Neal, stepping accidentally into Eric. The two boys stumbled and
hit the floor together.

  Clang-a-lang! Splat! Their bags full of meatballs and spoons spilled out next to them.

  The Ninns waved their swords.

  Eric looked at Neal and grinned. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.

  Neal smiled back. “Don’t hog the food! Everybody — grab a spoon!”

  As the Ninns edged closer, the kids all grabbed spoons. They loaded meatballs onto the spoons. Then they pulled back on the spoons … and let go!

  Fwing! Splat! Plop! Slurp!

  The room was a storm of flying meatballs!

  “Eek! Aff! Oop!” The Ninns scattered under the rain of meatballs. They shielded their heads. They crouched low. They ran for cover.

  Then the meatballs ran out.

  “Uh-oh,” Julie mumbled. “Out of ammo.”

  The Ninns made gargling noises. Eric knew what this meant. The Ninns were laughing.

  They started after the kids again.

  Then Eric remembered something. It was what the Ninn woman had said in the tent. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he said it anyway. Loudly.

  “Thalak!” he yelled.

  The Ninns jerked to a stop. They looked at one another, then at Eric, grumbled, stepped back, then tramped out the door and down the stairs.

  Neal stared at Eric. “Dude, that was awesome!” He slapped Eric’s hand in a low-five.

  “Nice choice of words,” said Julie. “What does thalak mean?”

  Eric shrugged. “We’ll find out later. Right now, we need to help Keeah!”

  He jumped to the window. He peered out and up. The rough surface of the tower jutted above him. The hog elves were escaping up the side.

  He gulped. He didn’t want to follow them.

  But he had to.

  Here goes! he said to himself. Eric pulled himself out the window. He clung to the side and began to climb.

  “Slow and steady,” he murmured. “No sudden movements.”

  Then there came the terrifying sounds of iron being ripped apart. The tower shuddered.

  “Oh, man!” Eric cried. “Please … no!”

  “The Ninns are shaking the tower!” Khan said, climbing out the window below Eric.

  “They’re hopping mad,” said Julie. “They’re tearing the tower apart!”