Zephyr Spheres and the Sword of Wonders

By Myles B. Hibbett

Awkward thirteen-year-old Zephyr Spheres has a pretty grim and mundane existence. She takes orders from her foster mother, Mrs. Krumple, and is ridiculed at school by a bully and wealthy classmate, Trinda Temple. That is until Zephyr is transported to Danus, the world of magic, and taken to the mystical kingdom of Crystotopia. Together, with a c

• Language: English
• Publisher: Myles B. Hibbett
• Release date: Jul 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958122587

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ZEPHYR SPHERES

AND THE SWORD OF WONDERS

MYLES B. HIBBETT

Zephyr Spheres and the Sword of Wonders

Copyright © 2022 by Myles B. Hibbett

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN

978-1-958122-59-4 (Paperback)

978-1-958122-58-7 (eBook)

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1Life with the Krumples

Chapter 2A Toy of Perfection

Chapter 3Limpo and Zimpo

Chapter 4The Head Sorcerer of Crystotopia

Chapter 5The Test

Chapter 6The Nursemaid and the Torcher

Chapter 7The Royal Chambers

Chapter 8Zephyr's Plan

Chapter 9Leech the Tracker

Chapter 10Silos Prison

Chapter 11Madam Vitaria

Chapter 12The History Mirror

Chapter 13The Kitchen Dwarves

Chapter 14The Truth Potion

Chapter 15The Vortex

Chapter 16A Fatal Confrontation

Chapter 17The King of Crystotopia

Chapter 18The Coronation

Chapter 19Back to the Past

PROLOGUE

Zephyr Spheres was not like other thirteen-year-old girls. Besides her long sparkling silver and midnight black hair, dangerously brown eyes, and shimmering cocoa skin, she possessed a very strange personality as well. She could often be caught chanting mysterious words, trying to talk to animals, or drawing unknown places in detail in her sketchbook.

Totally unlike Zephyr were the Krumples, the impoverished family she had been living with since she was a small child. Mr. Krumple was a retired officer from the military, but his character seemed meek and kind. Now, he worked as a security guard for a bank, and he had gray hair, a large mustache, a bald spot on the top of his head, as well as pleasant gray eyes and dark chocolate skin. Although he was nice to Zephyr, he was almost never home because of his job, and this left Zephyr at the mercy of her foster mother, Mrs. Krumple.

She was a short woman with light hazel eyes and gray hair that she frequently dyed platinum blond. Her skin was the color of peanut butter, and she was plump as though she had eaten a great deal of it. She was also far more authoritative than Mr. Krumple was. She always made it clear to Zephyr that she hated children, and she only took her in to get an extra two hundred dollars a month from the state for her care. (Mrs. Krumple made sure that the money was never used for this purpose). Her hobbies consisted of lounging on the couch in her blue bathrobe, shouting commands to Zephyr, and reading the most recent edition of French Scope Magazine.

Zephyr knew very little about her real parents. Her mother died when she was two-years-old. The only thing she remembered about her was her warm smile and her natural fragrance of lilies. And, whenever she reflected on her father, Zephyr had no memories of him. If she asked her foster parents about him, they always told her that they thought he abandoned her mother after she was born.

After almost ten years of cruel reminders from her foster mother, Zephyr was resigned to the fact that the Krumples were the only family she had. The single existing legacy from her real parents was, her name.

CHAPTER 1

LIFE WITH THE

KRUMPLES

On Thursday, September 7, Zephyr woke up extra early. She always found it hard to sleep the night before the first day of a new school year. Looking out of her bedroom window, she noticed that it was still dark outside. She yawned softly and pulled herself up from her old creaking mattress. Then, she carefully chose her outfit for the day.

All of Zephyr’s clothes were old. Either they were hand-me-downs from the Krumples’ relatives or bargains from the local thrift store. She laid out her newest clothes—a worn oversized blue sweater from her foster mother and a pair of black jeans with a small tear on the side.

Then, she pulled her book bag out of the closet. It was the only new thing that her foster parents had bought her in a long time. Mrs. Krumple purchased it because Zephyr’s old one from last year ripped apart. By the end of the school term, she had carried everything in her hands until her teachers sent home notes about the situation.

After the fifth note, her foster mother’s exact words were, I cannot let the other students’ parents think that I am mistreating you. What would that do for my image?

And, with that, Zephyr received a new Jantech book bag from the department store.

Zephyr made sure her book bag was packed. She planned to use all her leftover school supplies from last year. Wrapping her tattered pink robe around herself, she hurried to the bathroom to take a shower and get dressed. Then she picked up her book bag and ran out of her bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen.

It was always important to get up earlier than Mrs. Krumple. She would yell at Zephyr or give her more chores to do if breakfast wasn’t ready by the time she got downstairs.

Zephyr quickly fried a pound of bacon and a pound of sausage. She produced a mountain of pancakes and a heap of scrambled eggs. (The Krumples loved to eat).

Soon, the delicious smell of breakfast crept slowly out of the kitchen and upstairs to the Krumples’ bedroom.

Mr. Krumple walked downstairs in his security uniform with a freshly polished badge gleaming from his chest.

Mrs. Krumple followed closely behind him, attired as usual in a blue bathrobe and curlers. Together, they entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. Mr. Krumple smiled at Zephyr and said, Good morning, but her foster mother didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

Instead, she stared at her husband with her light hazel eyes and said, Arnold, honey, the French really know what they’re doing. If I got this, I would be the life of any party. It’s the latest fashion in French Scope Magazine.

No Linda! Zephyr’s foster father responded as he piled seven pancakes on his plate. For the last time, I can’t afford that dress. You never go to parties anyway.

I would go to more parties if I had something to wear! Mrs. Krumple pouted as she filled her plate with bacon and sausage. But her husband ignored her.

Zephyr sat down and joined the Krumples for breakfast. She had prepared a bowl of cold cereal and some watermelon for herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t like other foods, but seeing her foster parents eat always took away her appetite.

Why do you eat that stuff when we have real food right here? Mrs. Krumple asked as she glared at her cereal.

Too much greasy food could give you a heart attack, Zephyr responded softly.

Ha! retorted her foster mother. Suit yourself then! Pretty soon, you’ll be all skin and bones!

Zephyr crunched loudly on her cereal, ignoring her foster mother’s comment.

Mr. Krumple was surprised to see Zephyr wearing her new clothes.

Why are you all dressed up? he asked as he stuffed his mouth with pancakes and syrup.

Today is the first day of school, Zephyr told him.

She wasn’t surprised that her foster father forgot. He was always so busy that he hardly ever remembered her birthday either. But, her foster mother simply didn’t care.

Oh, it’s time for that again, Mrs. Krumple said without any enthusiasm. That just means that you’ll have to do most of your chores after school until the term’s over.

She reloaded her plate with a second helping of bacon and sausage.

Yes, I suppose so, Zephyr said with a sigh. I’ll just get to my homework after I’m done.

And one more thing young lady, Mrs. Krumple said suddenly as she pointed at Zephyr ominously. Don’t you dare mess up this day for me! If I hear one more word from your teachers at school about your behavior, I’ll send you to boot camp! Don’t do anything...stupid! This is a beautiful day, and I don’t need you to make it ugly!

Last year, the principal at Zephyr’s school made numerous calls to Mrs. Krumple about her actions. Her classmates and teachers always thought that it was strange when animals seemed to understand her, or when she said something out of the ordinary.

Zephyr simply glanced at Mrs. Krumple and nodded her head in response. She was used to the threats and punishments that her foster mother heaped on her, but she never actually thought that she did anything wrong.

Linda, she’ll be fine, Mr. Krumple said. You’re too hard on her.

Zephyr’s foster mother rolled her eyes as she filled her plate with more pancakes.

At quarter to seven-o-clock, Mr. Krumple made his way to the door. He kissed his wife goodbye and waved to Zephyr.

Have a good day at school, he said.

Walking out of the house, he got into his 1989 station wagon and drove away.

Mrs. Krumple shuffled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. She turned on an old black and white television set and called to Zephyr.

You know the routine dear! Do laundry first! Then check the windows, floors, and carpets! Don’t forget the dishes in the sink, and the front lawn must be mowed before school! We have to keep up appearances for the neighbors! Oh, and don’t be late getting home today and starting dinner!

Groaning to herself, Zephyr walked upstairs. She carried a laundry basket from her room and used it to collect the Krumples’ dirty clothes from their hampers. Then she proceeded downstairs to the washer and dryer, and she threw a load of clothes into the washer and turned it on. Walking into the kitchen, she picked up a roll of paper towels and a bottle of all-purpose household cleaning spray.

One hour later, Zephyr’s foster mother stared at the glass part of the front door she had just cleaned and yelled, Wait a minute! You missed a spot here! Can’t you do anything right?! It’s such a simple job!

Zephyr quickly cleaned the glass section of the front door once more and waited for Mrs. Krumple to complete her inspection. She knew that her foster mother only performed tough inspections when she was mad about something; this time it was most likely because she couldn’t buy the dress she wanted out of her August edition of French Scope Magazine.

After Mrs. Krumple was satisfied with her chores, Zephyr grabbed her book bag and hurried past her without saying a word.

She let out a sigh of relief when she finally got outside. Thank goodness her foster mother was too embarrassed by her bathrobe and curlers to come out in broad daylight!

There was one thing Mrs. Krumple was right about. The day did seem to be beautiful, almost perfect. The sky was baby blue, and the sun shone brightly in Zephyr’s face. The air was warm, but the coolness of a gentle breeze blowing through her hair reassured her that summer was nearing its end.

Dragging the Krumples’ old lawnmower out of the wooden shed near the entrance to the house, Zephyr attempted to start it. But, it took several pulls on the frayed cord before the lawn mower came to life. Zephyr pushed it around the lawn as she followed the edges along the square formation of the lawn’s grass and worked her way toward the middle of it. And, it only took her ten minutes to mow the entire front lawn.

As she slowly pushed the lawn mower back to the shed, something caught her eye. A gray squirrel was watching her. Zephyr saw squirrels all the time. They were abundant in Boston, but she had never seen a squirrel watch her so intently before.

Holding a chestnut in its tiny claws, the gray squirrel peered at Zephyr curiously. As she walked cautiously towards the animal, she expected it to run away, but it did no such thing.

Nice weather we’re having isn’t it? Zephyr thought she heard the squirrel say.

Yes I suppose so, she heard herself answer in strange sounds. She swore that she was squeaking. Why were you watching me?

Oh me? I always watch humans. They do the strangest things that fascinate me—like you when you move that metal monster around on the grass. I usually just observe from the trees because humans try to chase me away. But you...you’re different. I knew it as soon as I saw you.

The squirrel wagged its bushy tail with excitement.

How is it that I can talk to you like this? Zephyr asked.

She had also communicated with a rabbit from school, a dog, and a cat, but she didn’t know that she could talk to squirrels as well.

It beats me, the squirrel said. All the humans I’ve encountered talk in weird sounds that don’t make any sense. You’re the first person I’ve met who can make an intelligent conversation. And I thought all humans were stupid.

Well Mr. Squirrel, Zephyr said as she snickered. Do you have any friends?

However, the squirrel didn’t answer her. Instead, it made a loud squeak and scampered up the bark of a nearby dogwood tree.

Wait, don’t go! Zephyr shouted. She waved her hand at the squirrel, but it was gone.

I guess it does make sense for you to try to talk to animals, someone said to Zephyr in a cold tone. They’re the only things that would want to be friends with the likes of you anyway!

Turning, Zephyr tried to see who was talking to her. Standing a few feet away with folded arms was Trinda Temple, the richest and prettiest girl that she had ever known.

What are you doing here, Trinda? she asked in an irritated tone.

But, she was also somewhat shocked and embarrassed. Of all the people in the world, Trinda Temple had to find her mowing the lawn and talking to a squirrel! Zephyr was to Trinda as a superhero was to its arch villain. They hated each other.

I just happened to be passing through, Trinda said with a smirk on her face. Daddy always insists that we drive through some of the ‘poorer’ neighborhoods at least one day a week. We like to show people what we have and what they don’t.

Pushing her hand through her soft jet-black curls, Trinda pointed to a white stretch limousine parked across the street from the Krumples’ house. Zephyr couldn’t help but notice that her caramel-colored skin glittered in the light of the sun. However, though her skin was the color of caramel, Trinda was anything but sweet. Darting her golden eyes at Zephyr, she grimaced.

When I saw you mowing the lawn in those clothes, I just knew I had to stop and say hello.

I’m only mowing the lawn because my dad isn’t here to do it, Zephyr said as she finished putting the lawn mower back into the shed. She hurried out of the shed and closed its door behind her.

Of course, a likely story, Trinda said. Everyone knows that you can’t afford to hire someone to do it for you.

She paused as she examined the freshly cut lawn.

My, I must say that you have done a wonderful job. Perhaps we could hire you to do our lawn as well. I’m sure your family could use the extra money. You could even get a makeover for once in your life. But, something tells me that it wouldn’t make you much more attractive.

Zephyr scowled at Trinda angrily.

Leave me alone, or I’ll...

Or you’ll what, call your squirrel patrol on me? I don’t even think that the squirrels like you that much. The one you were just talking to ran away.

Laughing cruelly, Trinda walked towards the limousine across the street. A chauffeur dressed in white got out of the front of the car and opened the back door for her.

Just before she disappeared into the luxurious vehicle, she called to Zephyr.

See you at school, and wear something new for a change! It might get you a few popularity points!

As the limousine door closed, it drowned out Trinda’s laughter.

Zephyr was furious. Trinda Temple was always making fun of her, especially in school. But, Zephyr couldn’t make fun of her back. Trinda was perfect in every way: hair, teeth, eyes, clothes, and even grades.

I’ll get her somehow, Zephyr mumbled to herself.

CHAPTER 2

A TOY OF

PERFECTION

Zephyr felt her stomach churn as she neared the Grannold B. Dickens School on foot. She always walked to school because it wasn’t far from her house, but she was never happy