The Zimmah Chronicles: Zimmah Chronicles

By Scott King

Get the complete 3-book set for one low price as well as an EXCLUSIVE BONUS STORY!

What if your wishes went wrong?

Karim and Whitney were normal kids until they met Zimmah, a wicked djinn with a twisted sense of humor.

Whether they’re caught in a candypunk war between the Cupcake and Brownie Kingdoms, an epic battle between Unicorns and Mermaids, or a surprise invasion of San Francisco, the action never stops and the stakes couldn’t be higher.

Can Karim and Whitney survive jello buildings, butterfly-spewing volcanoes, and dozens of evil djinns to save the world?

Can they save their own parents?

This is the collection readers have been wishing for! All three books of the Zimmah Chronicles trilogy, together at last, plus the never-before-released bonus tale, Dinosaurs vs. Robots.

This omnibus is sure to be treasured by readers of all ages, whether they're experiencing Karim and Whitney’s amazing adventures for the first time or are faithful fans eager to devour the saga all over again.

Get this action packed page turner today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Majestic Arts
• Release date: Jun 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533701947

Book preview

The Complete Zimmah Chronicles

The Complete Zimmah Chronicles

Scott King

Contents

Cupcakes vs. Brownies

Title Page

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Mermaids vs. Unicorns

Title Page

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Genie vs. Djinn

Title Page

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Dinosaurs vs. Robots

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Note to the Reader

Author’s Note

About the Author

Books By Scott King:

I dedicate Cupcakes vs. Brownies to all the peeps that died in making this book. There were a lot of you and you will always be remembered.

Prologue

NOW.

---

This isn’t what I wanted. Make it stop! Karim screamed as he fell through a pink cotton-candy cloud.

The fluffy treat crawled up his body, devouring him. It scratched his rich brown skin, giving him an overwhelming sense of itchiness on his nose and cheeks. Clamping his mouth shut, he tried to keep out the candy confection, but with every breath the treat pushed its way in, melting on his tongue. He gagged on the overpowering sweetness.

The extra-sticky pieces of cotton candy tugged at his blue jeans, navy hoodie, and the embossed medicine bottle he clutched in his fist. The rim of the bottle was as worn as a pebble on a beach, and a rotted cork nested in its neck. The opaque glass glowed with a rosy light that turned the cotton candy a lavender hue. Ancient runes sketched the sides of the bottle squiggled and overlapped, forming patterns that Karim didn’t recognize.

Karim held the bottle against his chest. At ten and with two little league championships under his belt, he knew how to maximize his grip. Yet he could do nothing when the cotton candy wrapped around the bottle’s neck and wrenched it from his hand.

He flailed his arms, reaching and hoping to find the bottle. His fingers touched nothing but the sticky clouds.

You can’t do this. The saccharine taste filled his mouth again and it frustrated Karim This was not how he pictured things panning out. He should be at home with his parents and everything should be happy. He shouldn’t be possibly falling to his death through clouds made of real cotton candy.

His feet landed on something squishy and firm that reminded him of a trampoline. The clouds lifted and Karim found himself trapped inside a bubble of bubblegum. Drifting a few feet away, a second smaller bubble surrounded the medicine bottle.

The wind surged, spinning both bubbles.

Unable to keep steady on the malleable surface, Karim’s ankles rolled and lost his balance, falling onto his back. The bubble held him. No matter how hard he squirmed, he couldn’t get to his feet. Helplessly, he watched the tiny bubble with the bottle drift toward a golden desert while his fell toward a forest. Jagged mountains with white peaks rose between him and the other bubble. He feared this would be the last time he would ever see the bottle.

Craning his neck, Karim eyeballed the forest below. Even through the pink tinted gum, he could make out splotches of neons and pastels that were anything but natural. It, combined with the cotton-candy clouds, confirmed what he suspected. He was no longer in the real world. A dark river split the forest in two. Half clustered at the base of the mountains, and the rest stretched to the horizon. Karim didn’t see a single building or sign of human life.

The bubble holding Karim prisoner picked up speed as it waffled from side to side. Karim closed his eyes to stop from vomiting.

The bubble touched down, caught by a river of caramel. The waves moved in slow motion with silky ribbons of caramel dripping between them. The current caught the bubble, slurping at it. Karim’s heart pounded. He needed to escape.

Karim arched his back, trying to rip free from the bottom of the bubble. The bubble refused to let go, but it did contort and bend with his movement. As the round bubble melded into a bean shape, it rolled to the right and closer to the river’s shore.

Karim jiggled his butt. He jiggled it as if he were competing in the national championships of butt jiggling. With every sway of his hips, the bubble deviated from the caramel current.

When the bubble crashed onto the shore, Karim dripped with sweat. He was sure that no one in the history of the world had shaken their butt faster or more furiously than he just had.

Smooth stones coated the shoreline. Karim could feel them pushing against the bubble and into his back. They hurt, but none were sharp enough to pierce the bubble. Stuck upside-down he stared at rocks. No bigger than his thumbnail, the rocks reminded him of a box of Crayola crayons. They were an assortment of vivid reds, blues, greens, and yellows, all splashed with a dark grey marbling.

He heard a shrill, elongated chirp followed by more chirps. Twisting his body, Karim saw a shadowy shape hopping in his direction. The thing strutted and pecked at the smooth stones. Through the haze of the bubblegum, he realized it was a living marshmallow peep, the kind sold in grocery stores around Easter.

The peep was a lilac color and twinkled as if made of glitter. Its sluggish body retracted and contorted as it pecked at a pebble. The stone cracked open, revealing an almond inside. The peep tugged at the almond, ripped it from its candy coating, and swallowed it.

This is way worse than I thought, Karim said.

At the sound of Karim’s voice, the peep turned to the bubblegum bubble. The single dot that formed its eyes expanded to the size of a nickel. Karim didn’t know for sure but guessed that the creature thought the bubble was the world’s largest candy almond.

The peep gave the bubble a testing prod with its beak. The bubble warped, but didn’t break. Drawing back its neck, the peep pecked with lightning speed. The bubble burst with a deafening pop that pounded on Karim’s eardrums.

The gum whipped around, trapping the peep.

Karim sat up. Shreds of pink gum dangled from the back of his hoodie and arms, but he moved freely, rotating to his knees. Muffled chirps rang from the peep inside the wad of gum. Karim dug into it. It felt tacky but didn’t stick to his skin. He created a tunnel and pulled out the peep. It quivered, sitting in his palm.

Sorry about that, little guy. With a single finger, Karim stroked the back of the peep’s neck. The peep cooed and nuzzled its head against Karim’s pointer finger.

The ground shook.

The peep let out a series of chirps and skipped out of Karim’s hand. Faster than Karim would’ve thought possible, it beelined away from the caramel river and toward the forest.

The trees, both pine and those with leaves, glistened with a plastic texture and looked molded from marzipan. Caramel-coated apples sprinkled with peanuts grew on the trees closest to the river. Deeper into the forest, Karim spotted trees with lemon drops and others with sugared orange slices. Wildflower-shaped fruit tarts sprouted from the ground under the trees. A dusting of powered sugar plastered everything, giving the forest a wintry feel.

From behind him, Karim heard the sound of rustling branches. He pivoted to see a ferocious gummy grizzly bear with a rider on its back. Light shined through the bear’s red translucent body and with each step its gelatinous mass wiggled the rider left and right. At full speed, the van-sized bear bounded out of the forest, trampling onto the retreating purple peep. The peep made a wet, squishing sound that caused the bear to halt. It lifted its paw to see mushed marshmallow.

You killed it! Karim yelled.

Three more bears with riders sprang from the woods. Each rider wore armor, designating them as soldiers. The armor resembled a medieval knight's. The pearly plates covering their chest, arms and legs were forged not of metal but of hardened icing, like the kind found on a stale black and white cookie.

An elderly Latina woman sat on the lead bear. She should’ve been covered in wrinkles, but she was so pudgy that her skin was taut on her chubby cheeks. Her grey hair ran down her right shoulder in a braid, and her armor matched the others except it was a royal blue. A golden insignia of a cupcake was stamped on her chest. With one hand she held the bear’s reins. With the other she clutched a nonpareil candy shield made of dark chocolate and lined with white spheres the size of golf balls.

Madam Loope? Karim tilted his head confused.

It’s Colonel Loope. She hefted her shield and threw it. It twirled, smashing against Karim’s temple.

Everything went black.

Chapter 1

THEN.

---

In the shadows of the unlit hallway, Karim cried. The tears weren’t the sobbing, out-of-control kind that made a person lose their breath. They were quiet tears, the kind of tears that sneak up on a person and slip out before they know what is happening.

Through the crack of the kitchen door, Karim watched his parents. Malek, a bald man with skin darker than Karim’s, stood facing away. Holding a washcloth, he scrubbed at something on his the front of his baby-blue dress shirt.

Christina, Karim’s mother, sat at their old oak kitchen table. Her blond, curly hair draped past her shoulders. She held a rigid stance with her back straight and her pointy chin held high.

A smashed bakery box lay upside-down on the floor next to the table. Halfway open, the lid of the box had failed to contain the cupcakes inside. Globs of different-colored frostings oozed from the box, hiding any trace of what individual flavors they once had been. Cupcake bottoms scattered their granite counter, between the off-brand toaster oven and the sink. Green frosting streaked the yellow tiles of the kitchen floor and a trail of broken wrappers led to Malek’s heels.

Malek turned off the faucet and reached for a paper towel, but stopped when his knuckles grazed a dollop of peach frosting. Shaking his hands dry, he turned to Christina. Can you honestly say that you don’t think a divorce would be the best thing for Karim?

Christina responded with silence.

Karim spun, putting his back to the kitchen, and ran down the hall. Rushing into their front foyer, he tripped over Lion, the family dog. Lion was a pure lab in both breed and in manners. He loved food and his barrel shape proved it. A husky black fur covered his body and made him appear even bigger than the whopping hundred and thirty-two pounds that he weighed.

Picking himself up from the fall, Karim charged out the front door. Lion followed. They exited his parents’ upscale brownstone townhouse. The LED light at the front door did nothing to illuminate the stormy street. The rain fell sideways, stinging Karim’s face as he passed Java the Hutt, a swanky, hipster coffee house and crossed the road, entering Mission Dolores Park.

The park was on a sloping hill, overlooking downtown San Francisco. From its zenith, Karim watched lightning dance across the city. Flashes painted the clouds a deep yellow and shone so bright that the lights of the buildings and skyscrapers were nonexistent. Thunder rumbled, low and constant. Karim didn’t care about the lightning. He didn’t care that the rain belted him so hard that he had to squint his eyes. He didn’t care that there wasn’t a single inch of his body that was dry. All that mattered to him was running until he couldn’t run anymore.

Karim ran two blocks, passing a tattoo parlor whose hot pink sign sizzled in rain. He cruised by Kuni, his favorite restaurant. They had the best Pad Thai in the city and his parents took him there for special occasions. The line to get a table usually wrapped around the block, but tonight the torrential downpour had managed to keep everyone away.

At the corner of the block, Karim and Lion turned onto Eighteenth Street. Before Karim knew what had happened, he was on the ground with he wind knocked out of him. Breathing hard, he looked up to see that he had collided into a grandma-aged woman holding a polka-dot umbrella. Her hair was white, but she was the opposite of frail. Tattooed on her left arm was an eagle sitting on a globe with an anchor behind it.

Sorry, miss, you okay? Karim climbed back to his feet.

I am not a ‘miss.’ I am Madam Loope. I may be old, but my bones are heavy. The woman thudded a fist against her chest. You look worse for wear. Are you thick in the head? No sane person would get caught out in a storm like this.

Karim’s eyes dropped to the ground.

Well, speak up. At least tell me your name.

Karim. My name is Karim and I was…

You were what?

Karim didn’t reply.

Spill it.

I don’t want to lie, but if I tell you, then you’ll call my parents.

Maybe I should call the police?

Don’t do that!

Have you stolen from someone? She glared at him. I don’t like thieves.

No, nothing like that. I’m just not sure if I have a real home to go back home to.

Madam Loope removed a key chain from the side pocket of her dull green cargo pants and unlocked a pair of double doors. A hand-painted wooden sign read, Pawn de Rosa. The outside of the store was bare, not even bars covered its windows. From what Karim could see, it was a rundown pawnshop that no one would ever bother breaking into.

I’m getting tea. Madam Loope walked through the doorway. Not because it’s cold and I’m an old person. I’m getting tea because I like it. You and your dog can follow me or not. I do not care, but I will warn you that it’s dry inside.

Chapter 2

The smell of mold and old people flooded Karim’s nose as he entered Pawn de Rosa. The store was a hoarder’s heaven. Furniture and random knickknacks covered every centimeter.

Madam Loope skipped an aisle that was too narrow for her to fit down and scooted by a stack of chairs. They were piled so high that they grazed the metal crossbeams of the exposed ceiling.

Squeezing by an upside-down ottoman, Madam Loope led them into an aisle filled with nothing but porcelain sinks. They weren’t lit nicely or displayed in an orderly fashion. They were bunched together and all mixed up like the big tote where Karim kept his Legos. Big double-sided sinks sat stacked on antique ones. It was a wonder that more didn’t look broken or chipped.

Interesting place, Karim said.

Offering a groan as a reply, Madam Loope took them to the central cross-section of the store. At its heart was an Amish-built hickory desk with an old tube-style computer monitor on it.

Wait here. I’ll put the kettle on the stove and get you two a towel. Madam Loope dipped into a doorway covered with dangling wooden beads.

Humphing, Lion flipped on his back. With his blubbery belly exposed, he wiggled against the tattered cranberry carpet, attempting to get dry.

I don’t think that’s going to do it, buddy, Karim said. He hoped Madam Loope had more than one towel. In his experience it took at least three to successfully get Lion dry after a bath. If not, they might have to improvise. Maybe hidden in the store they could find an aisle of antique fans and use them to blow Lion dry.

Stepping away from the desk, he peered down the aisle to his right. It smelled extra damp and musty, like socks that had been at the bottom of a hamper for two weeks straight. He saw a row filled with nothing but newspapers and another with nothing but doorknobs.

Karim entered an aisle lined with wooden desks and dressers. Resting upon the furniture was an odd mixture of glassware. There were vases, drinking glasses, fancy wine glasses, and even a cherry-wood bar lined with bottles. He recognized some of the bottles as being old soda bottles. One even had Coca Cola stamped into the glass, but past them were older-looking decanters and flasks. Their walls were disproportionate with different parts being thicker, as if the glass had shifted and warped.

He approached the bar, touching a green bottle. It was bulky, with no neck. The glass was raised with the bold letters spelling out the word tonic and eighteen eighty-six. Karim pushed it aside and picked up an aquamarine bottle with a rubber stopper. The weight of it surprised him.

Karim stopped.

A cloudy, embossed medicine bottle sat at the corner of the bar. It glowed a warm red as if someone had dropped a tiny light bulb into it. Karim picked up the bottle and shook it to see if anything was inside. He heard nothing, though he did notice odd symbols scratched into the glass of the bottle.

Very carefully he pinched the rotting cork of the bottle between his forefinger and thumb and plucked it free. A hissing stream of air poured from the bottle.

Lion growled, and the fur down the center of his back formed a mini-mohawk.

A heavy, maroon vapor poured from the bottle. It billowed forth like smoke from a campfire doused with water. Karim coughed. The haze tasted like soured eggs.

Karim shoved the cork back into the neck of the bottle, but it wouldn’t stay. The force of the escaping vapor was too strong. More and more of the cloud leaked from the bottle, way more than what could have scientifically fit in such a small space. The cloud expanded, filling the store. In seconds, Pawn de Rosa faded away. Karim could no longer see the wooden bar, glassware, or even the ceiling.

The densest part of the cloud twisted as if stirred by the wings of a bird. It coiled, taking on the outline of a six-foot-tall man.

Lion barked, something he so rarely did that it caused Karim to jump. The deep woofing rattled his chest.

The cloud-man grew denser and Karim could see tiny cloud tendons and muscles taking shape. It reminded him of The Body exhibit he had seen at the Natural History Museum, except this was much scarier because the man moved. As the man’s body twirled through the air, Karim could hear the sound of its raw beating heart and could see its spongy lungs expanding and shrinking with every breath. Skin formed over the man’s muscles and thickened, taking on a burnt khaki color. The man was thin, with an almost sickly build, and his eggplant-colored hair was shaved short. Circling his smirking mouth was a neatly trimmed goatee.

Oh yeah, this feels good. The man flexed his arms and arched his back. He intertwined his hands and cracked his fingers. The pop of each joint sounded like the bones of a hundred-year-old man, which Karim found odd since he appeared to be no older than thirty.

Curling his toes, the man saw that he was buck naked.

That won’t do, he said. The man snapped his fingers. From nowhere an alabaster double-breasted suit with a fiery red tie materialized on his body.

What are you? Karim asked.

I am Zimmah, a djinn.

I don’t know what a djinn is.

Djinn are what the legends of genies are based on.

You’re a genie? Karim’s eyes widened.

No, djinn.

Does that mean I get three wishes?

No, Zimmah said. As a djinn, I don’t have to grant any wishes if I don’t want to. Besides, I can read you like a book. You are boring.

I am not boring!

Would you wish for women, money, fame, or power?

Ewww, no. Karim’s face squished as if he had eaten peas. Why would I want any of that?

See, boring. Zimmah crouched down, bringing his pointy nose directly in line with Karim’s. You ooze with honesty and goodness. Why would I give someone like you a wish?

Karim didn’t know why Zimmah should give him a wish. He didn’t see himself as being a special person. He hadn’t achieved great things in life. He was an ordinary ten-year-old boy, but he wasn’t going to let that get in the way. If the would-be genie wanted a show, then he would give him a show.

Reaching into the mist that surrounded them, Karim’s fingers found the cherry-wood bar. In one fell swoop he swished his arm across it, knocking dozens of antique bottles onto the floor. Not a single bottle broke. Clanging and rattling, they rolled in different directions. Is that boring?

Yes, Zimmah said. If that’s the most exciting you can be, I pity you.

Then maybe I should be a charity case? Karim asked. You can do this pro bono, like when a lawyer helps out someone who can’t afford them. That is, if you can actually grant wishes.

Try me.

Okay, I wish my dog Lion was a real lion. Karim ruffled the fur at the back of Lion’s neck. No, not a real lion, but a snow lion!

That makes no sense, Zimmah said. There is no such thing as a snow lion.

Then that proves my point. You can’t grant wishes.

Zimmah snapped.

A gargantuan male lion sat in Lion’s place. His fur was as white as snow, and a burly black mane clung to his neck. Three times larger than what he used to be, his back was eye level with Karim, and his paws alone were bigger than Karim’s head.

Turning, Lion opened his mouth revealing razor sharp teeth, as if to swallow Karim. Extending his tongue, Lion licked Karim across the face. It wasn’t the wet soggy kiss of a dog. It was as rough as sandpaper.

Holy moley. Karim’s mouth gaped. You’re a real-life genie!

Djinn. I’m a djinn.

This is so awesome.

Yes, I am very impressive.

Can you do anything?

There are limitations to my powers, Zimmah said. Yet not as many as you think. For example, can I now offer you women or riches?

No, way.

Then what? If I granted you a wish for anything, what would it be?

Karim liked the idea of being rid of his allergies. He thought it would be epic to own every single Lego set ever made. Of course, a world without global warming or war would also be good. However, the one thing Karim wanted was for his parents not to get a divorce, but he couldn’t wish for that. That would be selfish. He had to word his wish in such a way that it would be good for everyone and still give him what he wanted.

I wish… Karim paused and his brows crunched together.

Don’t think too hard, Zimmah mused. You might overheat your pocket-sized brain. Wish for whatever it is that would make you happy.

Karim smiled. He knew what to say. I wish the world was a happy place.

Oh, my dear boy. A grin stretched from ear to ear across Zimmah’s face. This may not be boring after all!

Zimmah snapped.

The world around Karim faded away. The store, Lion, and Zimmah were gone. Still clutching the antique medicine bottle, Karim fell into a pink sea of cotton-candy clouds.

Chapter 3

NOW.

---

The cupcake castle lay at the end of the candy forest nestled between dual mountain ridges. The steep frosting walls that made up the bottom two thirds of the castle leaned outward, stretching ten stories high. A twisted dome, like a whirl of whipped cream, topped them. Dotted along the dome were spiraled towers that looked like melted wax birthday candles.

Two sets of walls made of granite-hard icing surrounded the perimeter of the castle. A large town built of gingerbread houses and storefronts was tucked between the inner and outer walls. People walked the streets doing errands and going to work as if it were an ordinary city.

Tucked between the inner walls and the castle were the kinds of things Karim expected to see in a medieval fortress. A set of stables, as big as the kind he’d seen at the state fair, butted against a section of the walls. A courtyard with fondue fountains sat beside them. There was a smithy, a carpenter workshop, and a huge field lined with bandstands. Karim guessed that they used it for tournaments and jousting.

Today there was no merriment to be found on the field. Armed soldiers practicing drills filled it to the brim. Hundreds of men and women in armor moved in shuffling groups. Some practiced training drills with sharpened candy-cane swords. One group practiced loading rudimentary guns with candy pellets and another whirled a staff formed out of a chocolate-chip biscotti. A cluster of soldiers to the east of the castle stuffed cannoli-shaped cannons with wads of creamy custard mixed with sharpened bits of chocolate.

A stage constructed from blocks of rice crispy treats rose above the chaos, offering a vantage point of all the soldiers. At its center was a high-backed chair carved from a red velvet cupcake.

Strapped to it was Karim. Bands of black licorice weaved around his arms and legs, sewing him into the chair. His bindings were so tight that the most he could manage was wiggling his fingers.

A harsh, scraping sound came from the stairs leading up the platform. Karim gasped with recognition as his father came into full view. Perched on Malek’s head was a shimmering crown. Scattered throughout it were reflective squares that drizzled the stage in pockets of dappled light.

Karim gasped with recognition as the person wearing the crown came into full view. It was his father.

Malek wore the blue frosting armor of the soldiers who’d captured Karim, but his was thicker and had more plates. He looked like a fabled paladin warrior. With every step he took, his heavy boots ground into the rice-crispy stage, leaving trails of crushed cereal bits.

Dad!