Ch1-The Last Unicorn

Blizzard of the Blue Moon

CHAPTER ONE The Last Unicorn The November sky was gray with clouds. Jack sat reading in front of the living room fire. "Who wants hot chocolate?" his dad called from the kitchen. "Me, please!" said Jack.

The front door burst open, and with a gust of cold wind, Annie rushed inside. "Jack! Guess what!" she whispered. "It's back!" "How do you know?" said Jack. "I was walking home from the library"— Annie paused to catch her breath—"and I saw a flash in the sky above the woods. The last time that happened—" Before she could finish the sentence, Jack jumped up. "Dad, Annie and I are going to go outside for a while!" he shouted. "Can the hot chocolate wait till we get back?" "Sure, have fun!" their dad called from the kitchen.

"I have to get my pack," Jack said to Annie. "Meet you on the porch." "Don't forget the rhyme book!" said Annie. Annie slipped outside and Jack ran up to his room. He grabbed his backpack. He checked to make sure their book of magic rhymes was inside. Good, there it was. 10 Magic Rhymes for Annie and Jack from Teddy and Kathleen Jack charged back downstairs. He pulled on his boots, put on his jacket, tied a scarf around his

neck, grabbed his mittens, and headed out the door. "Come on!" said Annie. Jack could see his breath in the cold air. "Brrr," he said. "Let's hurry!" Jack and Annie ran down the street and into the Frog Creek woods. They wove between the trees, their boots crunching through the fallen leaves. Jack stopped. The magic tree house was back. High in a tall oak tree, it was silhouetted against the gray November sky. "You were right," he said to Annie. "Good work." "Thanks," Annie said. She ran to the rope ladder and started up. Jack followed her.

When they climbed inside the tree house, Jack and Annie saw a book and a scroll of parchment paper lying on the floor. Annie picked up the scroll, unrolled it, and read aloud. Dear Jack and Annie of Frog Creek, I am sending you on one more mission to prove that you can use magic wisely. This poem will guide you. —M. The very last unicorn Is now hidden well By those who have put him Under a spell.