Angor Reborn

by Richard Ashley Hamilton

  “Time to whittle you down to size,” said Jim, snapping the Glaives together.

  He hurled the knife-edged boomerang at the Golem’s knotty head and then chopped at its knees with his sword. Like a lumberjack with a grudge, Jim hacked off its legs, causing the wooden automaton to teeter and tip over.

  “Timber!” yelled Jim as the Wood Golem fell over.

  The Trollhunter then plunged the Sword of Eclipse into its torso, destroying the totem that had brought it to life. Adding a final insult to the injury, Sir Barks lifted his leg and relieved himself on the fallen tree beast, to which Jim said, “Good boy.”

  He turned around just in time to see Angor Rot come out of hiding on one of the ladders bolted into the side of the dam. The Troll climbed the rusted rungs and tossed another fetish carved from his own living rock into a puddle. Jim and Sir Barks each took a step back as a massive Water Golem coalesced in front of them. It rolled over Jim like a gargantuan raindrop, absorbing him. Trapped inside its aqueous body, Jim thrashed and gasped out bubbles, drowning again. Sir Barks barked furiously at the Golem, until Angor Rot hurled his dagger. The wolf pup barely avoided the blade by running off the dam and back into the woods.

  Retrieving his dagger, Angor Rot leaned closer to the Water Golem and patiently watched the Trollhunter run out of air inside it. After the final bubble slipped past his lips, the Eclipse Armor sublimated away. Satisfied, Angor Rot reached into the Golem and fished out Jim’s Amulet.

  “Just as you have stripped me of my weapons, so shall I relieve you of yours,” he said.

  Jim’s eyes fluttered inside the Water Golem. He reached behind his back, felt the totem floating there, and snapped it with his hands. The Golem popped like a water balloon, and Jim splashed onto the cement. Groggy and weakened, Jim could only cough the fluid from his lungs as Angor Rot dragged his long fingernail across the Amulet. The Troll traced a glowing tattoo across its metal surface, similar to the one he once drew upon Jim’s face. That spell had allowed Angor Rot to hijack the Sword of Daylight, and Jim now moaned at the thought of what this new hex might do.

  Angor Rot then wedged his nail into the seam of the Amulet’s back panel. The device blinked urgently and the tattoo flared as Angor Rot pried open the Amulet, exposing the gems concealed there—including the Triumbric Stones the Trollhunter had fought so hard to acquire.

  “Nooo,” Jim slurred.

  Ignoring the plea, Angor Rot emptied the gemstones into a new leather pouch and cinched it around his neck like a trophy. He then tossed the spent Amulet over the dam’s crest, where it became lost in the waterfall. The assassin lifted Jim bodily and held him at eye level. With a mocking, contemptuous sneer, Angor Rot said, “Look at you. Your teeth. Your horns. Your hands. You are a Troll. I am a hunter. And as such, it is now my turn to subject you to rule number three of Trollhunting.”

  Angor Rot drove his knee between Jim’s legs, driving out a yowl of raw, animal hurt. Jim’s eyes welled with pain as Angor Rot drew back his Creeper’s Sun dagger, rain and poison dripping from its point. Somehow Jim used the last of his strength to kick free of Angor Rot. And the Trollhunter followed his Amulet over the side of the dam.

  CHAPTER 10

  WIT’S END

  “You think Merlin kept the airbags when he made this armor outta spare auto parts?” asked Toby as he dropped butt-first through another cloud.

  “Let’s hope we never have to find out!” Claire yelled beside him.

  She thought that the sight of the ground rushing toward them would have been more upsetting—like it was when she and Jim had been in free fall over the English moors in the year 501. But Claire had assumed greater control of her powers since then, especially after fighting off Morgana’s possession not long ago. True, the spiritual infection had been almost fatal. But in evicting the sorceress from her body, Claire had developed new abilities in her recuperation.

  Several miles below, the Creepslayerz got a serious case of the heebie-jeebies as the abandoned Shadow Staff lifted off the alley in front of them. It snagged Toby’s Warhammer in its crook, then rocketed away with breathtaking speed. Like a javelin thrown by some invisible titan, the Shadow Staff zoomed across the storming sky and landed where it belonged—in Claire’s awaiting armored hand. She took the Warhammer from her staff’s forked end and hurled it to Toby. He caught the crystal mallet, and his descent slowed considerably.

  “Pretty crafty, Claire!” cheered Toby. “Witchcrafty, that is!”

  “Gracias, T.P.” Claire grinned back, still plunging toward the earth. “Can I offer you a shadow-jump while I’m at it?”

  “Nah, I’ll take the scenic route,” Toby joked. “Besides, someone should probably double-back and search the unfriendly skies for Count Strick-ula.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Claire as she opened a shadow portal in midair and fell through it.

  An instant later, a second black hole opened behind Stuart Electronics. Claire dropped out of it, her purple heels clicking on the asphalt. She saw NotEnrique and Gnome Chompsky standing in front of a dumpster . . . and Steve and Eli cowering inside it.

  “A-are those sky-creepers still after you?” asked Eli.

  “If they are, hiding there isn’t gonna help any.” Claire smirked. “Vulture Trolls have excellent eyesight and aren’t above picking through garbage to get their next meal.”

  “We weren’t hiding!” Steve denied. “We were, uh, looking for Lake in here!”

  “Neep,” said Chompsky, slapping his forehead at the lame excuse.

  “And the Stalklings’ eyesight may not be their own anymore,” added a voice from above.

  Everyone looked up and saw Strickler and Toby descend from the sky. The Changeling’s wings were singed in places from the lightning strike, but he appeared otherwise unharmed. Now back on terra firma, Toby collapsed the Warhammer and holstered it on his armor.

  “I glimpsed their mirrored eyes during my initial approach,” continued Strickler. “What they see, Gunmar sees.”

  “And that’s me cue to hightail it to Glug’s tub,” said NotEnrique.

  But Claire blocked him with her staff and a disapproving look. Satisfied NotEnrique was staying put, she turned to the others and said, “Then we better come up with a plan. If Gunmar learns Jim’s missing, he and Morgana will kick off the Eternal Night tonight.”

  “ ‘The Eternal Night’?” Eli repeated as he climbed out of the dumpster, his zip slippers squeaking with garbage juice. “That sounds fairly unspectacular.”

  “The inadequate one speaks true,” said Merlin.

  Barbara dragged the wizard into the alley and said, “Thanks for texting the meeting point, Toby. Always so considerate.”

  “Anytime, Doctor L,” replied Toby. “I’m just impressed I got reception that many miles above a cell tower!”

  “And Elijah and Steve, thank you for helping us look for Jim,” said Barbara before wrinkling her nose. “But why do you both smell like garbage?”

  Eli was about to answer when Steve clamped a beefy hand over his mouth. Merlin wrung the rain out of his beard and said, “Yes, well, if we’re all through dispensing pleasantries, perhaps we might turn our attention to the most pressing concern of the moment. Pray tell me, before it is too late—what’s for dinner?”

  “Are . . . are you kidding me, Rip Van Winkle?!” Steve griped. “Who are you? And what’s with those clothes? You make Pepperjoke here look like a homecoming king!”

  “Aw, thanks, Steve!” said Eli. “That means a lot coming from you!”

  A high-pitched whistle silenced the crowd. They all looked at Barbara, who pulled her fingers away from her mouth and said, “Listen to me. Nobody wants Jim back more than me. Nobody. But as much as I hate to admit it . . . Merlin may have a point. We’re all hungry. Tired. At wit’s end. If we’re going to have any hope of finding my son, we need to be at our best. Claire, can you take us back to—”

  “WHAT THE FLIP WAS THAT?!” squealed Steve, pointing beyond Barbara.
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  She and the others turned, seeing a glowing streak whiz into the alley, shortly followed by two specks. They looked to Barbara like turbocharged fireflies.

  “Oh no!” yelped Eli, flashing back to the worst of many traumatic days in high school.

  “Pixies,” Strickler said. “If they’re on the loose, our respite may need to wait.”

  “ ‘Pixies’? Those don’t sound so bad,” said Barbara. “What do they do—sprinkle glitter and make broomsticks float?”

  “We’ll explain later,” Toby said through the corner of his mouth. “But right now, nobody flap your gums.”

  “And stuff these into your ears and nose,” ordered Claire, pulling handfuls of Styrofoam peanuts from a discarded box behind Stuart Electronics.

  Everyone plugged their ear canals and nostrils with the synthetic white fluff. The full swarm of Pixies descended around them. They illuminated the area like strands of living string lights, but didn’t attack Team Trollhunters.

  That’s weird, thought Claire. They’re usually all over their potential hosts the second they spot ’em.

  She and the others then watched the Pixies drop their stolen pouch of Grave Sand into the alley. Instead of zipping around at random, they fluttered in formation over it. Then, one by one, the sprites took turns slipping down to the sack and huffing the black dust within it.

  They’re all over that Grave Sand like Nana’s kitties are with catnip! Toby thought.

  Strickler sensed there was no immediate risk, so he uncovered his mouth and said, “I’d have thought Grave Sand would’ve addled the Pixies. Yet they seem more focused than usual. Zen, even.”

  “Sounds like the medication they give hyperactive kids,” added Steve. “Lotsa people think it calms ’em down, but it’s actually a stimulant to improve concentration. Uh, I mean, so I’ve heard other people who are not me say. . . .”

  “Either way, if those Pixies are out of their hive, then Angor Rot probably isn’t far behind,” said Claire.

  “Er, we got bigger problems than ol’ decay-face, sis,” NotEnrique said with a gulp.

  He and the others watched as the Pixies started to pulse in unison. Their wings beat in time, as if they all now operated on the same unsettling frequency. Strickler watched the alley’s bricks crumble away before his very eyes, only to be replaced by a stretch of the Darklands. He cried out in horror, followed in short order by the Creepslayerz, NotEnrique, and Chompsky.

  “The Pixies are so jacked up on Grave Sand, they don’t need to get into our heads to mess with ’em!” Toby realized before he also crumpled with utter dread.

  “It’s like they’ve turned this entire alley into one giant nightmare!” Claire said, until she, too, finally succumbed to the terror.

  CHAPTER 11

  THUNDER AND PLUNDER

  The Trollhunter’s body washed up at a place it had been many times before: the canals of Arcadia. The storm surge had deposited Jim Lake Jr. in the concrete channels of his hometown.

  His limp form tangled with other debris as an undertow pulled Jim down. His face sagged and slipped beneath the abundant currents. He sank until something snagged his torn collar.

  Sir Barks-a-Lot tugged Jim’s head up and out of the water. The pup’s legs churned furiously as he dragged the Trollhunter over to one of the sloped retaining walls. Now clear of the deluge, Sir Barks shook the moisture from his fur and prodded the Trollhunter with his snout. The young wolf had followed Jim the entire way from the dam, never losing his scent. But now the person Sir Barks had rescued—the same person who had rescued Sir Barks hours before—lay still on the canal’s inclined wall. Jim did not move, and his skin turned all the bluer.

  The young wolf barked for him to wake up, but he did not. Sir Barks laid down beside Jim, about to close his sad, puppy-dog eyes, when they caught a glint in the canal. Sir Barks raised his head and spotted Jim’s Amulet in the mass of downed tree limbs and junk that collected at the base of the bridge.

  The puppy jumped back into the canal, retrieved the device with his teeth, and dog-paddled back to Jim. Sir Barks dropped the inert Amulet on Jim’s chest, where he’d seen it worn before by the Trollhunter. The wolf then howled at the moon, as if demanding that something happen.

  And it did. The Amulet suddenly sparked alive, its gears whirring, its crystal face ejecting more orbs of energy. The spheres gathered inside Jim’s heart and emitted a defibrillating shock. The Trollhunter gasped alive, his eyes wide with amazement, his blood pumping again. Sir Barks jumped on top of Jim and licked his face.

  “I missed you, too, Barks,” Jim said weakly. “And you are one very good doggy!”

  Propping up his bruised, waterlogged body, Jim saw the canal’s water level rise even higher. He took Sir Barks under one arm and climbed up the overpass’s weathered beams. From the relative safety of their perch under the bridge, Jim panted, catching his breath. He and Sir Barks heard car horns honk and wet tires squeal above them as drivers traveled through the rainstorm. Jim winced at the noise, which sounded particularly shrill to his pointed ears. He hadn’t missed the sounds of civilization while he was out in nature.

  Maybe that’s where I belong now, thought Jim. In the wild with other animals. . . .

  He stared at the rushing waters beneath him, picturing the faces of the friends he would likely need to leave behind. Like a daydreamer imagining shapes in the clouds, Jim saw his mom smiling back at him from the swirling surface. Claire and Toby then appeared until they, too, dissolved. Now Jim saw Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!!’s faces in the canal and wondered if he’d ever truly see them again.

  “Master Jim, is that you?” asked Blinky’s watery reflection.

  Jim flinched at his friend’s voice. Realizing that Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! weren’t fading away as the others had, he then said to Sir Barks, “Um, how many times did I hit my head going down that waterfall?”

  “Why, it is you!” Blinky enthused from below.

  Sir Barks barked at the two Trolls, and AAARRRGGHH!!! said, “Ooh, puppy!”

  “Blink! AAARRRGGHH!!! You’re okay!” said Jim. “Pipe down, Sir Barks-a-Lot! These guys are my friends!”

  “ ‘Sir Barks-a-Lot?’ What an absurd name!” said Blinkous Galadrigal.

  “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sir Barks, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now,” said Jim. “By the way, how are we having this conversation? Where the heck are you?”

  “Alas, we’re still in the Quagawump Swamps,” said Blinky.

  “But welcoming committee not great,” added AAARRRGGHH!!!

  “Just so. Queen Usurna promptly ambushed us upon our arrival, and we’ve been holed up in a cave to avoid her Krubera guard,” Blinky continued. “But as fate would have it, this cave is also home to Plunder Pools—deep wells used by greedy Trolls to hide their treasures. Over time, the artifacts filled the pools with mystical properties of their own. Such as the ability to communicate with others via two bodies of water!”

  “Everything look blurry. Too cloudy,” grumbled AAARRRGGHH!!!

  “Yes, I can hardly see Master Jim with all these gallons in the way,” Blinky said with a squint. “Aarghaumont, if you would be so kind as adjust the reception?”

  Jim watched AAARRRGGHH!!!’s finger swirl around underwater, as if turning the dial on an old-fashioned television set. But the movement only made the Trolls’ projected faces ripple even more.

  “No, no, that seems to have made it worse,” said Blinky. “Our Trollhunter’s noble countenance now appears more muddled than before!”

  “That’s . . . probably for the best,” Jim muttered.

  Detecting the shift in Jim’s tone, Blinky said, “Master Jim, what’s the matter? You don’t seem quite yourself.”

  “You have no idea,” answered Jim. “But don’t worry about me. If you’re hiding out in a cave, those Kruberas will eventually find it. You should go now.”

  “With all due respect, Master Jim, we’ll do no such thing,” Blinky said sternly. �
�Once, perhaps, we might have run off to save our own skins, as most Trolls would.”

  “Especially Blinky,” joked AAARRRGGHH!!!

  Blinky narrowed his six eyes at the large Troll beside him, then said, “But that was before we met you and began teaching you the ways of Trollkind. And in our time together since that fateful moment, it turns out that you have also taught us something.”

  Jim’s thickened eyebrows raised as he heard Blinky speak to him across the distance. AAARRRGGHH!!! nodded along next to his friend, agreeing with every word.

  “You’ve shown us what it means to look out for others, to put somebody else’s needs ahead of one’s own,” said Blinky, his voice thick with emotion. “In other words, Master Jim, you’ve shown us what it means to be human. And it’s a lesson we’ve happily taken to heart.”

  Jim felt the first warmth he’d known since Ronagog and Junipra’s bonfire. He wanted to say something in return to his two Troll friends, but the water became more distorted between him and his friends. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! turned around and reacted to something behind them.

  “Krubera!” said AAARRRGGHH!!!

  “Egad! They’ve found us!” cried Blinky.

  “Blink! AAARRRGGHH!!!” Jim shouted.

  He watched helplessly as several burly Troll arms reached into view and wrestled Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! away from their Plunder Pool. Sir Barks yapped at the Kruberas, but the connection was lost. The canal was just a canal again.

  I have to help them! Jim thought desperately.

  He considered the Amulet in his palm, sensing how much lighter it felt without the gems that once filled it. Angor Rot hadn’t just robbed Jim of the fruits of his many Trollhunting labors. He’d also taken the only items that might prevent the Eternal Night: the Birthstone, the Killstone, and the Eye of Gunmar, otherwise known as the Triumbric Stones. No Triumbric Stones meant no Eclipse Armor. No Eclipse Armor meant no Sword of Eclipse. No Sword of Eclipse meant no way to slay Gunmar the Gold.