by Tony Abbott
“Hey, who invited you?”
Neal held up his hands in a friendly gesture. “We’re just looking for —”
“A punch in the noggin?” the dog-eared one said.
“Yeah … a p-p-punch in the n-n-nogg-gin?” said the one with the mustache.
Keeah flicked her fingers, and violet sparks scattered to the sidewalk. “Let’s not make this harder than it has to be. You may have something that belongs to us.”
Max nodded, puffing up his chest. “Besides, Her Royal Duchess Dumpella is right here with us. I bet she has a dungeon for thieves like you.”
Dumpella stepped forward. “Duchesses do have dungeons. But they also like presents. Especially pearls. I might look the other way if you let us have one.”
The dog-eared thief grumbled sourly, but he opened a small treasure box filled with hundreds of shiny pearls. “Take your pick.”
“T-t-take your p-p-pick,” said the other.
Closing her eyes, Julie plunged her hand into the chest of pearls and suddenly gave a bright laugh. She pulled her hand out, and in her palm sat a dense, shiny pearl whose milky insides rolled slowly, like ocean waves.
“The Pearl Sea!” said Max. “The second piece found!”
“Blimey!” said the dog-eared thief. “That’s my favorite!”
“M-m-my f-f-favorite,” agreed the other.
“Favorite or not, it’s ours now,” said Dumpella. “Now, go, and thieve no more!”
The two furry creatures grumbled, but trotted away as the children darted off in search of the third piece of the Medallion.
“This is going well,” said Julie. “It won’t be long now. We’ll be out of Ut soon enough.”
Neal wasn’t so sure. Things were going smoothly, but the sun was dropping and time was passing. He knew that sooner or later they’d have to get into the purple tower at the top of the palace for the Twilight Star. Was that what their follower was waiting for? For them to assemble the complete Medallion?
“There,” said Keeah. “The Museum of Magic. That’s where the Silver Moon is.”
The princess pushed ahead in the shadows and emerged near a large marble facade. The Museum of Magic sported a single great door made of stout iron.
“Neal?” said Max.
After a quick lock-picking charm, Neal was able to tug open the door, and the friends were inside the building.
The first room was vast, high-ceilinged, and nearly completely silent. The only sound was the tiny grains of sand slipping like a golden stream from the top half of a giant hourglass.
Time is passing, Neal thought.
“This way,” said Keeah softly. She led them to the next room and the one beyond that.
Finally, she paused.
This room was the largest they’d seen so far. Its marble floor seemed to stretch for miles. Its window drapes of dark red velvet, drawn tight, fell thirty feet from ceiling to sill.
Closing her eyes, Keeah raised her hand and pressed it gently to her forehead. With a sudden laugh, she spun on her heels and gasped. “Clever wizard! There it is!”
The base of the Medallion, the Silver Moon, was set in a breastplate of ceremonial armor. As twice before, the object of incredible magic was hidden in plain sight.
Keeah gently released it.
“Three out of four,” said Max. “We are really getting there. Now for the fourth —”
All at once, the front door to the museum slammed open, and the quiet of the rooms was shattered. A loud flutter of feathers echoed against the walls as the single exit was blocked by a large shape wearing a cloak of feathers.
Besides that, its head was large and beaked.
Besides that, it had enormous claws.
Besides that, it was poised to attack.
Max jumped back into Keeah. “Ving? The hawk bandit? Our enemy? Here in Ut?”
The feathered creature’s beak curved into a wicked smile. “Yes, yes, yes, and … yes!”
Ving was leader of the fierce hawk bandits who lived in the ancient city of Tarkoom.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Keeah said, her fingers beginning to spark.
“Oh, I’m fancy wherever I go,” said Ving.
“And I’m even fancier,” said another voice as a second hawk fluttered into the room.
It was Ming, Ving’s twin sister. Leader of the just as fierce hawk pirates, Ming had more colorful feathers and wore tall black boots and a black eye patch to match.
“What are you doing in Ut?” asked Julie.
Ming made a face. “We were following the old wizard. Next thing you know, we’re trapped in Ut with no way out. But thanks to you, we’ll get out today. All we need is those shiny things you’ve got there.”
“I don’t think so,” said Dumpella.
“Hey-hey!” cried a squeaky voice. “Too much grown-up talky-talky!”
Neal blinked as a third shape emerged behind Ming and Ving. This hawk creature was only a couple of feet tall, but bore the same colored feathers in the same basic pattern. He stomped toward the children, wearing impossibly big powder blue boots.
And an impossibly big diaper.
The kids staggered back.
“There’s a third one of you?” said Julie.
“Me … Ing!” shouted the little hawk creature. “Them’s little brother! Looky, Mingy. He has funny hat!”
“Never mind what I’m wearing,” Neal snapped. “Isn’t your diaper on backward?”
“Me poopy-poopy?” Ing cried, straining to look behind himself. “Vingy-Mingy fix it!”
“Your turn!” Ving and Ming said together, glaring at each other.
All of a sudden, Ing caught sight of the glittering pieces of the Medallion. “Pretty sparkles,” Ing cooed. “Mine!”
“What? No!” cried Neal.
But before the children could move, Ing leaped at the three pieces of the Medallion and snatched them in his claws. Giggling, he flew up to the ceiling and circled the room.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Ving snapped at his sister.
“Me?” She scowled. “You taught him to grab things.”
“Well, you taught him to fly!” said Ving.
“Just get that Medallion!” cried Keeah.
In the mad scramble to get the Medallion, display cases were upended, and glass exploded everywhere. Suits of armor crashed to the floor, scattering the room with iron arms and legs. Wherever the kids turned, Ving and Ming hurled themselves in the way.
“Whatever Ing has is ours!” said Ving.
“And you can’t have it!” added Ming.
“Oh, really?” said Keeah. “We’ll see about that —” She blasted at the hawks, meaning to push them out of the way, but they simply flew up and settled down unharmed.
“We can do this all day,” said Ming.
“Fly, Ingy, fly!” added Ving.
“Me go!” shouted the baby bird, flapping toward the door. “With shiny things!”
Desperate to get what they’d come for, Neal cast a look around and spotted a half dozen large urns behind the hawks.
“Those are genie urns from Parthnoop!” Neal said to himself. Quickly restoring his turban to its normal shape, he whispered, “Urns — tumble!”
Instantly, the urns wobbled from side to side, then dropped to the floor and rolled at the hawk twins.
“Noooo!” yelled Ming. “Out of the —”
But the urns were moving too fast. They knocked both hawks down like bowling balls knocking down pins.
“Strike!” Neal yelped. Slowing one urn, he leaped onto it, gave it a nudge with his knees, and it lifted into the air. He dipped it toward his friends. “Everyone, climb on!”
“No fair!” cried Ving, struggling under a blue urn.
But Neal and his friends were out of the room before the hawk bandits could stagger to their feet.
Whoosh! They were out of the museum.
Voom! They were over the streets.
“Go away, muffin head!” shouted the baby
hawk, swooping into a narrow street. Suddenly, his fledgling wings flapped wildly, and he tipped to one side as if weighed down.
“I think we might have caught a break!” shouted Neal. “His poopy diaper is dragging him down!”
If the baby hawk was clumsy, he was quick. From street to street he flew, his little claws clutching the Medallion tight. Finally, however, the weight of his diaper brought him closer and closer to earth.
“Mingy!” he cried over his shoulder. “Vingy! CHANGE MY DIAPEEE!!”
“Now’s our chance,” shouted Julie. “Get the Medallion!”
With a courage he didn’t know he possessed, Neal flew the urn next to Ing and jumped off, tackling the baby hawk. They tumbled to the ground in the main square. Neal snatched the Medallion and jumped to his feet. “I have it!” he said. “And, by the way, pee-yoo!”
“Good work!” said Keeah.
“Neal, climb back on the urn,” urged Max.
Julie pointed up. “Next stop, the tower —”
All at once, a shadow fell over Neal’s face. He looked up. Hovering between the buildings was a fat red urn. On top of the urn sat none other than Duke Snorfo himself.
“Aha!” Snorfo yelled, jabbing his fist at Neal. “My MAGIC SEARCH is over. Gimme!”
“Neal, get back up here!” cried Keeah, urging the urn toward him.
With a snort, Snorfo dived at Neal. Clutching the Medallion tight, Neal ran as quickly as he could toward his own urn. But Snorfo swept in front of him, snatched the Medallion from him, and soared high into the air again.
“Why can’t we hold on to that thing?” groaned Keeah, helping Neal back onto the urn. “Thief! You give that back!”
Duke Snorfo burst into laughter. “I’ll be happy to give this thing back to you. How about … NEVER! Now, EXCUSE me….”
Laughing like a wild man, the duke circled the vast main square and soared into the air.
“He’s heading for the tower,” said Dumpella. “He’ll assemble the whole thing there. Then there will be no stopping him —”
“I’ll stop him!” said Neal. His heart thundered against his chest as he urged his urn higher and faster after Snorfo.
Over the streets they flew, Neal and his friends on their sleek blue urn, inching ever closer to Snorfo, zigzagging ahead on his chubby red one.
Turning his head to see the children approach, the duke growled and put on even greater speed. “Pardon my DUST!”
“Two can play that game!” said Neal. “Hold tight, everyone.” He whispered a few words — “Nebbo-bo-shebbo!” — and the urn rolled completely over, then corkscrewed up over the streets. “Whoa-oa-oa!”
The duke turned around once more and gasped. “But where did you —”
Neal’s urn dived back down again next to Snorfo’s. “Peekaboo!” shouted Neal, digging his heels into the barrel of the urn and tightening his knees on its rim. He leaned left and knocked into Snorfo’s urn, sending it wobbling away.
The duke nearly crashed into a balcony but managed to lean back in time and twist away to safety. When Neal pulled up over the balcony, his heart gave a flutter. The sun was low on the horizon. They had spent too long searching for the Medallion. In a couple of hours, the city would return to its bottle.
Nudging their urn to greater speed, Neal shortened the distance between them.
“Snorfo, you don’t know what you’re doing!” called Keeah as they inched ahead. “The Medallion is far too powerful for you!”
“Mine!” cried Ing, who was suddenly back in the race. He appeared to be wearing a fresh diaper.
Neal grinned and glanced down to see Ming disposing of a white bundle.
Wrong move. In that fraction of a second, Snorfo twisted his urn around, came up behind the children, and snatched Neal’s turban away. “Ha! Perfect fit! We are the same size!”
“Give that back!” shouted Neal as the word Neffu had used — “defenseless” — rang in his ears. “Give it!”
“Mmm, no,” said Snorfo. “I like it —”
As if the turban gave him new intelligence, Snorfo fiddled with the three pieces of the Medallion. Suddenly, the children heard a distinct click and knew that one of the pieces was attached.
“No! Don’t do that!” cried Max. “Snorfo, don’t!”
There soon came a second click, and the three pieces were together.
“It’s too much power for you!” said Julie.
Immediately, the air began to quake, and a beam shot up wildly from the Medallion.
“Ho-ho, lightning!” The duke laughed. “There’s power for you!”
Then it came. A single sharp sound.
Crack!
Julie scoured the sky. “What was that?”
Keeah gasped. “My force field. The power of the Medallion, even incomplete, was too much for it. The shield has been broken!”
In seconds, it seemed as if the air in the entire City of Ut was being sucked away.
Ing, Ming, and Ving sank back to the square below, breathless, as the sound of heavy wings filled the air. Duke Snorfo brought his urn to a bumpy landing in the city’s main square. He jumped off next to the obelisk and stared straight up. So did all the townspeople in the square.
The sky over the city went black, and the air filled with a deafening roar.
“What’s happening?” asked Keeah.
Neal knew what was happening. How he knew, he couldn’t say. But he did.
“Into the shadows!” he whispered. And the children and Dumpella scurried into the shadows to keep from being seen.
At that moment the sky filled with a thousand wingwolves. They swooped down and flooded the square around Snorfo, standing at attention as if waiting for someone.
Then that someone came.
A giant dragon with four jagged wings, a bony head, and fiery-red eyes.
“No,” whispered Max. “Not … him …”
“Him!” said Dumpella.
“G … G … G …” stuttered Ving.
“ … ethwing!” Ming finished.
“He scary,” said Ing.
Landing on the cobblestones, Gethwing folded his great wings behind his shoulders. His long white fangs shone in the fading golden sun. He narrowed his fiery eyes and one by one searched the faces of the bystanders. The guards, the hawk creatures, the citizens of Ut, all froze where they stood.
All except Duke Snorfo.
Duke Snorfo didn’t freeze.
He quaked uncontrollably.
Then he gasped.
Then he fell to the ground in a faint.
With Gethwing only inches away, Neal wanted to run. Or fly. Or vanish.
Or even be back in math class.
But he couldn’t budge from the shadows. Terror seemed to nail his orange curly-toed boots to the cobblestones, into the ground, through the earth, and out the other side.
We so do not need Gethwing here, he said.
No kidding, said Julie.
How did he know we were here? asked Keeah. How did he find us?
The dragon’s heavy footsteps resounded like thunder over the cobblestones.
Circling Gethwing’s bony head was the infamous crown known as the Coiled Viper.
Fashioned by Lord Sparr into the shape of a snake twined upon itself, the Viper had helped secure Neffu, Sparr, and Ungast to Gethwing, forming the moon dragon’s Crown of Wizards.
As the dragon stared from face to face, the Viper’s venomous eyes pulsed brightly.
“So this … is Ut,” Gethwing said.
Breaking their silence, Ving and Ming stumbled over themselves to bow.
“Your wonderful dragonness!” said Ming. “Allow me to be the first —”
“Your dragony wonderfulness!” said Ving, grinning. “I am honored to be the first to —”
“Silence!” boomed Gethwing. “I came for one thing and one thing only.”
To capture us? whispered Julie.
Worse, said Keeah. He came for the Medallion. But how did he know it
was here?
“Me Ing!” said the smallest hawk creature, stepping forward, a drop of drool leaking from his beak. “Me Ing … ,” he repeated.
“Hush, little one,” said the dragon. “Hush.”
“But me Ing … ,” Ing wailed.
“Silence!” boomed Gethwing, and the baby’s beak clacked shut.
“Did someone already say ‘uh-oh’?” Neal whispered out of the side of his mouth.
“You just did,” whispered Dumpella.
Neal nodded. “I can say that again!”
What struck Neal were not Gethwing’s stern features or fearful words. They were normal for the moon dragon. What Neal noticed this time was that Gethwing seemed larger than he remembered. Much larger. His four giant wings, black and scalloped, were arched and more massive than ever. His arms looked as if they had been hewn out of stone and his claws forged from iron. With every breath Gethwing took, the horns on his head sizzled with black sparks that scattered and hissed on the cobblestones.
In two quick steps, the dragon stood over the turbaned form of Duke Snorfo. “Is this the pesky genie boy called Zabilac?” he asked.
Neal trembled. “Uh-oh. Again.”
“He got muffin hat!” said Ing, scratching his beak.
“So, Zabilac,” said Gethwing, towering over the unmoving form, “how fare your little genie tricks now?”
With a single swift move, Gethwing snatched the Medallion from Snorfo’s grasp.
Are you kidding me? said Julie silently. How many times will the Medallion change hands today?
Gethwing bent his giant head to the silver object. He examined its front and back, touching it gently with his claws.
“This … is incomplete,” he growled. “It is missing Lord Sparr’s piece, the Twilight Star!”
With that, the dragon raised his claws to the sky and howled in rage. At once, a flash of light streaked across the sky, and a golden chariot harnessed to a pair of black groggles zigzagged down to the main square, with Princess Neffu at the reins.
And Neffu, too! said Keeah. How did they all know the Medallion was in Ut?
“I must have the complete Medallion,” Gethwing growled, scanning the square once more. “Whoever prevents me from having it will live to regret it — but not for very long!”