The Magic Escapes

by Tony Abbott

  Long ago, Galen had cast a spell against Sparr. He could never enter Jaffa City unless he was invited in. And he never would be.

  I looked up at the ceiling. Objects I had levitated the night before — two clocks, a bucket, five pencils — still hung where I’d charmed them. Levitating things was my latest skill. Among the hovering objects was a glass ball that I always use to call my friends.

  “Princess!” cried a fearful voice from below. It came from my parents’ throne room.

  “Coming!” I shouted. I glanced back at the floating ball. “Sorry, friends, I’ll call you later. Right now, I’m needed!”

  I knew going over the rooftops would be even quicker than running through the palace halls, which I wasn’t supposed to do anyway. So, I flung open the far door and dashed onto the stones of my balcony.

  Above me, the sky was turning from deep violet to the pink of morning. The sun just peeped over the eastern horizon. I breathed it all in.

  “Okay, Keeah,” I said to myself. “It’s magic time. Mother, Father, here I come!”

  Trembling, I sprang off the balcony and darted up across the roof tiles to the peak. I skipped along the top, then leaped off.

  Whoosh! I glided through the air and came down running on the next peak. Speeding across, I jumped to a low tower, then to a little dome.

  Fwit-fwit-fwit! From one roof to the next, I flitted and danced, twirling in midair, flying across the tiles for a moment, then leaping onto the next rooftop.

  This power had just come to me, too.

  Quickening my pace, I jumped one last time, landed on the giant dome of the main palace, slid down, and dropped to its large balcony. It overlooked the city square and the sea beyond.

  I saw people running in the courtyard below, calling out wildly. Shaggy six-legged pilkas clomped in every direction. And there, in the middle of it all, was something that chilled me to the bone.

  A car.

  With a long yellow body, eight fat tires, twin silver horns on either side, and a glass bubble on top, it was a car I had seen before.

  My stomach tightened.

  “Sparr’s car!” I gasped. “He is here!”

  Already my hands were hot. I didn’t know how Sparr had gotten into the city, but I knew I’d have to join my parents to battle him out again. I only hoped that when my sparks flared, we would all be a match for him.

  Gritting my teeth, I turned, crossed the balcony, slammed through the giant doors, and strode into the throne room.

  “Sparr —” I shouted. I stopped.

  Against the bright silver and green banners, the evil sorcerer stood alone in a circle of dark light.

  One of his hands was raised high, clasped tightly in a fist. A sizzling spray of red sparks shot from it.

  “Where are my parents?” I demanded.

  Slowly, Sparr turned his head. His face was thin, his nose sharp, his eyes flashing like black flames. But it was the dark red fin behind each ear that proved he was not like the rest of us.

  “Your parents are … sleeping in,” he said softly, pointing to the end of the throne room.

  My heart nearly stopped. There, inside a large crystal box, standing silent and unmoving, were my mother and father.

  I ran to the box. “What did you do to them?” My parents’ eyes were shut as if they were in a deep sleep. “Sparr, answer me!”

  “They were in my way,” said the sorcerer. “Or, I should say … our way.”

  “Our way?” I turned back to Sparr. “You can’t be in the city. How did you even get in here?”

  A cold smile crossed his lips. “Why, Keeah … don’t you remember?”

  I trembled. “Remember what?”

  “How you kindly opened the gates for me!”

  Red light sizzled from his closed hand.

  “What? I’d never do that. I couldn’t do that. I’m a wizard —”

  “Oh?” he said. “And do wizards turn their palace guards into … toads?”

  He motioned behind him. Several helmets on the floor toppled over. Under each was a big brown lump. They croaked one after the other, then hopped away.

  “I didn’t!” I said. “I was sleeping —”

  “How nice, then, that my dreams came true!” said Sparr. “Because you gave me — this.”

  He opened his gloved fist and lifted his palm to me. In it sat a large crimson jewel, lighting up his face with a bright red glow.

  I shivered. “The Red Eye of Dawn! But who — how did you — that’s impossible —”

  Turning, I saw the large iron door behind my father’s throne hanging open. The small room inside was empty.

  My head throbbed. My mouth felt dry.

  “Sparr, I don’t know what tricks you’re playing here, but you won’t get away with this!”

  “I’m not getting away,” he said calmly. “I’m staying right here. With your parents no longer a problem, Jaffa City is mine. You are mine. Oh, now look —”

  Wham! The doors flew open.

  Max charged in, his orange hair wild and standing straight up, his eyes wide and afraid. “Princess, creatures are pouring out of the Dark Lands. Ninns are sailing to the city right now. Sparr is taking over! We must fight —”

  Without wanting to, I felt my hands moving up from my sides, growing hot. “Max, I …”

  The spider troll stumbled to a halt. “Princess?”

  Poooom! — a flash of sparks left my fingers. Max flew across the floor, blasting out the doors and over the balcony as if he were dragged away by an invisible rope.

  A second later, he vanished out to sea.

  “Max, no, no! My gosh, what have I done?!” I looked at the sparks spitting from the tips of my fingers.

  They were jagged and hot and … red.

  “Witch powers!” I gasped.

  Sparr howled with laughter. “Ninns are coming here. Creatures from the Dark Lands are on the move. I am taking over. And all because of you, Keeah. Your dark powers — your witch powers — have finally come out! There’s no one to stop me anymore. What a perfect moment. Perfect!”

  I could barely speak. “Perfect? It’s not perfect. It’s the opposite of perfect…. It’s … it’s …”

  Sparr turned to my parents’ empty thrones and offered me his hand. “Now that you are a witch, Keeah, let’s rule Droon as I had always hoped — together!”

  Text copyright © 2002 by Robert T. Abbott

  Illustrations copyright © 2002 by Scholastic Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.

  SCHOLASTIC, LITTLE APPLE PAPERBACKS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First printing, September 2002

  Cover art by Tim Jessell

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-41858-4

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