Title Page

  Dedication

  1: Storm in the North

  2: Ice Bones

  3: Hoodwinked!

  4: The Great Ice Conflict

  5: Strange Treasure

  6: In the Underground

  7: The Enchanted Room

  8: Snow Racing!

  9: The Green Flame

  10: A Wizard’s Duty

  The Adventure Continues …

  Also Available

  Copyright

  “Hold on tight, everyone. We’re going in!” cried Keeah as her four-winged, dome-topped flying ship, the Dragonfly, plunged into the thickening snows of Droon’s far north.

  Sitting snug inside the ship next to Keeah were Eric Hinkle and his friends Neal and Julie. Behind them sat Keeah’s mother, Queen Relna, and the blue-faced Orkins, Djambo and his gray-haired elder, Mudji.

  The friendly spider troll, Max, was in front next to Galen Longbeard, Droon’s oldest and most powerful wizard. And hunched in the very nose of the ship was the frizzy-haired and bespectacled pilot, Friddle.

  Making the ship all the more cozy was the fact that each passenger was dressed from boots to cap to mittens in the thickest winter furs.

  The snowy north of Droon was unlike anywhere in his world, Eric reflected as he gazed out the Dragonfly’s round portals. Droon was the land of adventure and magic that he, Julie, and Neal had discovered one day under his basement. They loved Droon. The three had even developed wizard powers like those of their Droon friends Galen, Relna, and Keeah. But they had never traveled so far north before.

  “And there to your left,” said Friddle, busily working the controls, “is the treacherous Paraneshi Iceway, home of the legendary Nesh ice warriors. We’re far past Silversnow now, my friends. Below us lies a forbidding and uncharted wasteland.”

  “A wasteland indeed,” said Galen. “But one that holds mysteries and secrets.”

  “And treasures!” said Mudji.

  Each of the Dragonfly’s passengers knew exactly what the old Orkin meant. The treasure pouch on Eric’s belt was the reason they were flying into the stormy north.

  According to Mudji, a hundred years before, a storm just like the one they were now entering had split the sky in two, creating a rare passage between the worlds.

  A strange blue serpent entered Droon through the passage. It crashed in the storm, and one of the serpent’s snowflake-shaped scales fell to earth. Sensing that the blue snowflake contained magical power, young Mudji hid it away from those who might use it for evil. The snowflake became known as the “Orkin Treasure.”

  For years the treasure lay buried. And so it would have remained, but Ko, the fierce ruler of the beasts, found it.

  Only through Galen’s cleverness was Ko foiled and the treasure now in their hands. But the wizard feared that the passage would open again, and he was convinced that the snowflake and the legend of the serpent were but two elements of a larger story. So now Galen was leading this expedition into the north to discover the truth.

  “Can we go any faster?” asked Relna, looking out the window ports to the ground below. “The storm will soon be at its peak and we must be there to protect the passage.”

  Friddle nodded. “Strap yourselves in, my friends. Faster means rougher!”

  As the ship rattled and shook, Eric opened the pouch and drew out the strange blue snowflake. Keeah, Julie, and Neal looked on as the glow of the plane’s wall lamps played over the treasure’s shiny surface.

  If the flake were made of snow, Eric imagined that it was some sort of magic snow, for it didn’t melt. The treasure was the size of a medallion, bore twelve crystalline points, and was very thin. But when he held it, it felt heavy, and it seemed to breathe with a power he could only guess at.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Max. “What magic do you think it has? What does it do?”

  Keeah shook her head. “I wonder if we’ll ever know. It may always be a mystery.”

  “I think it has powers,” said Neal, his turban perched on his head like a dollop of whipped cream. “Don’t ask me what kind.”

  “What I don’t get is how a serpent entered Droon from our world,” said Julie. “We don’t have serpents. We never had serpents!”

  “Unless you count Mr. Higgens,” said Neal. “He hisses whenever I cut across his yard.”

  To Eric, the flake was more than magical and otherworldly. It enticed him and frightened him at the same time, just as its power simultaneously warmed and chilled his skin.

  “Maybe the serpent needs it in order to fly,” he said. “Maybe it’s been waiting a hundred years for the passage to open again, and it needs this scale to fly home.”

  Galen’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Very possible, Eric. No doubt we shall discover this and more secrets very soon.”

  Too soon, thought Eric.

  For there was something else about the treasure. It was more than simply a mysterious object. The snowflake held a terrifying prophecy.

  Thinking back, Eric recalled the frightening words of Emperor Ko.

  “This tiny treasure will do no less than unite all the sons of Zara in a single place and time. A place and time when they are most vulnerable. And one of them … one of them … will fall….”

  The sons of Zara! thought Eric. As he watched Galen, whose eyes were fixed on the treasure, he knew the wizard feared the danger to himself and his brothers, Sparr and Urik, if the prophecy were to come true.

  Of course, the friends had discussed the prophecy over and over on the long way north and had decided that it really was impossible. It was inconceivable that all the sons of Zara could gather in the same place and time.

  Due to the odd magic of time travel, Lord Sparr was now very old and blind, and had been missing for months and months.

  And Urik was trapped in time, not in Droon at all, but in the Upper World. The last thing anyone knew, Urik was lost between 1572 and 1904, when Sparr fought him for the magical Moon Medallion.

  The prophecy didn’t add up.

  And Eric was glad it didn’t.

  And yet … and yet … he couldn’t get it out of his mind. As he held the snowflake in his palm, he felt that this journey to the north was no less than a race against time, in which all the elements — the snowflake, the storm, the serpent, and the prophecy — would combine in a way no one could imagine.

  “There it is!” Mudji said, pointing to a snowcapped ring of mountains below the ship. “That valley is where the serpent fell!”

  “Circle and land, Friddle, if you please,” said Galen.

  “Aye-aye!” said the pilot, and the Dragonfly plowed downward through the battering winds.

  “Mudji,” said Keeah, still gazing at the blue snowflake, “before we land, please tell us again what you know about this treasure.”

  “Ah, yes!” Closing his eyes, the elder Orkin began to recollect his past of a century before. “As you know, Orkins were once Ninns,” he said. “And I was still a young Ninn warrior on patrol in the far north when a wild storm suddenly flared up. The sky cracked open and a great blue serpent flew into our world!”

  “You must have been scared,” said Max.

  “Terrified!” said Mudji. “All at once lightning flashed — baboom! — and the serpent fell. I tried to run but was struck on the shoulder by this very snowflake, which I believe is no less than one of the serpent’s scales!”

  “Did it hurt?” asked Neal.

  “Hurt, nothing!” said the Orkin. “No sooner did it strike me than — poof! — I lost my Ninn shape and became … an Orkin!”

  The Dragonfly dipped suddenly. Wind rattled its windows. Gusts of blinding snow slammed it from every direction.

  Leaning for
ward, Friddle gripped the wheel tightly. “My friends, we must land now, or be forced to land. And by that I mean crash!”

  “Crash is not my favorite word,” said Neal. “I say land.”

  “We all say land,” said Relna. She pointed to a stretch of flat ground leading to the crest of the valley. “Can you put us there?”

  “I’ll try,” said Friddle. At once, he banked the Dragonfly and brought it in swiftly.

  Just before they touched down, however, something flashed through the air and struck the plane’s windshield — blam!

  The object shattered upon impact.

  “This storm is crazy!” Eric gasped.

  A second object struck the airship.

  Then another and another. Blam! Blam!

  “This is not the storm,” said Galen, scanning the hills below. “Those shots came from … down there!”

  Another powerful shot blasted the ship, and the engine began to sputter.

  “It’s … it’s … an icicle!” cried Friddle. “We’re being attacked with icicles!”

  “Icicles?” said Neal. “You mean the kind that break off rooftops?”

  Cling! Plink! Clonk!

  “No, I mean the kind that crash planes!” said Friddle.

  “Our enemies are already here!” said Relna, holding tightly to her seat.

  Another volley of ice daggers struck the plane, and the engine flamed out.

  “Friddle was right about a rough landing!” said Max. “Hold tight to whatever you can find!”

  And the Dragonfly, crippled and powerless, fell to earth amid a hail of ice daggers.

  If the frizzy-haired inventor had not been such a good pilot, the Dragonfly’s crew might not have survived its emergency landing.

  As it was, Friddle was able to bounce the plane to a stop near the rim of the ice valley.

  “Let’s defend ourselves!” cried Galen.

  They all jumped out of the plane and took shelter behind it, scanning for attackers amid the whirling snow.

  “The icicles came from behind those snowdrifts,” said Keeah, her fingertips sparking as she pointed to several windblown hedges that ringed the valley.

  Blam! Clonk! Icicles shattered on the plane’s nose, then on its tail, and then on the ground behind the children.

  “We’re surrounded,” said Julie.

  “On every side!” said Neal.

  “That’s what surrounded means!” Julie cried.

  “I just wanted to be clear,” said Neal.

  “You’ll be clear, all right,” said Eric. “As clear as a ghost, unless we get out of here! I see a pass leading down into the valley.”

  “Follow me!” yelled Galen. He thrust his staff into the snowstorm and jerked it once.

  Whoooom! A tunnel pierced its way through the wild wind and snow.

  “Hurry to safety,” urged Max.

  The friends hastened into Galen’s magic tunnel, heading toward a narrow pass in the hills surrounding the valley.

  But they didn’t get far.

  The sound of scraping and rattling filled the frigid air as strange creatures rushed one by one out of the madly driving snow.

  “What are those things?” asked Neal.

  Those things were odd, tall beings wobbling on frames no thicker than the width of a bone. They looked like skeletons with broad shoulders that were hung with icicles. They were all bones and joints, with heads no wider than their limbs.

  But that wasn’t their strangest part. The creatures were made entirely of icicles!

  “Icemen?” said Max.

  “The worst kind!” said Mudji. “These are the legendary Nesh warriors! They are not often seen this far north. They are the oddest creatures, and that’s why. Look!”

  The friends watched, dumbstruck, as the ice warriors reached up to their bony shoulders and snapped off spears of hanging ice. Taking aim, they hurled the icicles directly at the friends.

  Clink! Clank! Galen whacked the icicles with his staff. They exploded, showering the children with a spray of ice crystals.

  “Ayeee-iiii!” the creatures shrieked.

  “Djambo, Mudji, Friddle, to the ground. Wizards, in position!” shouted Keeah. She shot blast after blast at the icicle men.

  Relna and Galen stood side by side with her and followed suit. Julie and Neal huddled together behind Eric as he sprayed silver sparks at the warriors. But with each blast, Eric was aware of something he had feared ever since his magic had returned.

  While the flashes of silver light that shot from his fingertips were bright and strong, his abilities simply weren’t as powerful as before.

  It took more of him to do less.

  He still saw visions, of course. In one vision he had even seen the blue snowflake before it was found. But he felt he wasn’t the young wizard he once was. Something had changed.

  Maybe he had changed.

  “Help!” Max yelled. He dived to avoid an ice dagger and tumbled into Eric, pushing them both helplessly across the ice. A troop of icy skeleton men bore down on them.

  “Eric, blast them!” cried Max. Eric aimed his fingers. A stream of silver sparks shot out, then dissolved in the air.

  “What?” cried Max. “Eric —”

  “Nesh fiends, be gone!” shouted Galen, whirling his staff at the charging warriors.

  Fwank! Fooom! Bits of ice sprayed out like frozen rain, while larger shards flew against the sides of the hills behind them and crackled into dust.

  The ice warriors, moaning and squealing, retreated into the storm and were gone.

  The valley ledge was quiet.

  Eric wanted to say something, but Max spoke first. “Thank you, Galen! Eric and I were trapped, and you saved us!”

  Galen patted the spider troll’s shoulder. “A wizard’s duty is to protect those he loves.” He turned to Eric. “Your powers …”

  “I’m having trouble,” said Eric. “When Salamandra’s spell took them from me, and I got them back, it was … I don’t know …”

  “Too easy?” said Galen.

  Eric nodded. “I think so. I feel I can’t defend myself. Or anyone else.”

  “Wizards grow neither easily nor quickly,” said Galen. “Often a loss of magic becomes a test for a wizard. Perhaps your test —”

  The wizard stopped abruptly, turned, and appeared to be listening to something.

  Eric listened, too. He heard the wind sweeping wildly across the wasteland. But was there something else, another sound?

  Tapping? Was there … a tapping noise?

  Galen breathed deeply. Saying nothing, he simply nodded to himself, then grasped his staff tightly and walked on.

  “The storm worsens,” said Mudji. “Let us enter the valley where the serpent fell.”

  “And speaking of falling,” said Friddle, looking back at the damaged plane, “our landing was quite rough. The Dragonfly is in need of some work….”

  “Quite right,” said Relna. “Friddle, you and I shall repair the ship. Something tells me we’ll need it sooner rather than later. Galen, will you lead the others?”

  The wizard bowed. “Of course. We have an hour or two before the storm reaches its peak. Eric, do you have the snowflake?”

  Eric patted the leather pouch at his side. “Safe and sound.”

  “Do not let it out of your sight,” said Galen. “Now let’s be off.”

  Mudji acted as guide, walking side by side with Djambo, Keeah, Neal, and Julie. Galen strode by himself, and Eric and Max brought up the rear. Winds swirled over them as they climbed into the pass that led down to the valley.

  After a time, Eric felt a tap on his arm. He turned. Max was looking at him.

  “I saw Galen the other day,” the spider troll whispered. “He was consulting maps, timetables, histories of Droon, moon charts. All of a sudden, he went into a trance.”

  “What do you imagine he was thinking about?” asked Eric.

  Max shook his head. “I don’t know. But it’s clear something is worrying him.??
?

  Eric wondered if the wizard knew something they didn’t. Could the dark prophecy come true after all? Was that what they were all moving toward? A gathering of the sons of Zara? But how was it possible? No one knew where Sparr and Urik were. How could the treasure draw them all to the same place, anyway? What kind of magic did it have?

  “I don’t know,” said Eric.

  “At least he is there to help us when we need it, no?” Max said. “You heard him. A wizard’s duty is to protect those he loves.”

  Eric wanted to thank Galen for helping him, but the wizard seemed to want to be alone. So Eric hung back.

  Before long the little band entered a circle of hills so tall that their tops were barely visible through the snowfall.

  “It’s here I saw the serpent go down,” said Mudji. “The legend begins here!”

  The valley around them looked at first like a random cluster of frost heaves and ice mounds, ledges and shelves and outcroppings of snow, with caves burrowed out of solid white hills by ferocious winds and storms. But the more the friends looked, the more they realized it was not random at all.

  Between one ice mound and a cave was a tamped-down road. Coiling up one giant frost heave was a crude set of stairs.

  The farther they descended into the valley, the more the friends saw. Domed dwellings with holes like windows were stacked up the sides of snow peaks. In the drifts between them were the marks of tiny feet and innumerable wheel tracks.

  Galen halted. “I hear noises.”

  Eric wondered if Galen heard the same sounds as before. Then he heard them, too.

  Spsss … sss?

  Mudji laughed. “Can it be my old friends? The snowfolk? After all these years? Come out. Show yourselves!”

  Then, from behind ice boulders, drifts, and mounds, came dozens of creatures as round as they were tall.

  “Snowfolk!” said Djambo. “The noblest people of the north!”

  The snowfolk were plump, round-faced men, women, and children. The men had snowy white beards down to the tops of their snowy white boots.

  One of them stepped forward and bowed. “Welcome to Krone,” he said. “I am Baggle. Krone is here. For us. For you.”

  “Thank you,” said Galen. “We have traveled from the far south. We have just been attacked by ice warriors.”