Age of the Amulet

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Age of the Amulet Page 8

by Richard Ashley Hamilton


  “Stay your tongue, lest I render it as useless as those six cataracts you call eyes,” Gunmar interrupted. “I’ve suffered your lacking advisements—and these humans’ interference—for far too long. But no more.”

  The Gumm-Gumm king’s eye flared with malevolence as he said, “Send my best trackers above to this Arr-Cay-Dee-Uh. Tell them to hunt the Trollhunter and only return with his remains—and those of all he holds dear—clenched between their grisly jaws!”

  CHAPTER 16

  CLASH OF THE GUMM-GUMMS

  Is this Heaven? wondered Jim when he woke up surrounded by clouds.

  But the thought quickly vanished when he rolled over and found his best friend lying beside him, noisily chewing. Toby smiled sheepishly, offered Jim another candy bar, and said, “Nougat Nummie?”

  “Maybe later,” answered Jim.

  He stood up in the moors, a thick blanket of predawn fog still swirling around his feet. Jim then saw Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!!’s heads poke out of the mist. The Trolls appeared just as confused. Jim cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Claire!”

  “Up here,” called Claire’s voice from above.

  The rest of Team Trollhunters turned their gaze skyward as Claire descended from a closing shadow portal, the Shadow Staff held firmly in her hand.

  “How’d you get it back?” asked Toby. “And how come we’re not, y’know, smooshed?”

  “I snagged my Shadow Staff off the vault floor while Tellad-Urr was busy arguing with himself,” explained Claire as she alighted. “That’s how I was able to jump us out of there right before he flattened us . . . and this.”

  She pulled her other arm from behind her back, revealing the intact Kairosect.

  “Nice going, Nuñez,” said Jim, tucking the silver streak behind her ear. “You’re as sneaky as you are beautiful.”

  “Schweet!” cheered Toby. “Now we have everything we need to head back home! Let’s all click our heels together three times and say, ‘There’s no place like Nana’s!’ ”

  A low, steady beat echoed across the moors. Blinky narrowed his six eyes to peer through the haze and said, “Those are Gumm-Gumm war drums.”

  Team Trollhunters watched in dread as two opposing armies convened in the foggy valley below Glastonbury Tor. Orlagk the Oppressor led one side forward, while Gunmar and Bular stood at the vanguard of the other. Both camps came prepared for battle, yet Gunmar’s seemed the better-armed force with their weapons of burnished metal.

  “Clash of the Gumm-Gumms,” AAARRRGGHH!!! said balefully.

  “Not that we don’t appreciate your saving us in the proverbial nick of time, Claire,” said Blinky. “But did you have to drop us right into the middle of Gunmar’s historic rebellion?”

  “And look who has ringside seats,” Jim said.

  He spotted Gogun at the edge of the battlefield, now fettered in the same types of chains that once held Toby, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH!!! Tellad-Urr the Terrible stood beside the old River Troll, watching the two Gumm-Gumm armies collide in all-out war. The Gumm-Gumms’ battle cries reverberated around the moors. Jim and the others could hear Bular’s elaborate death threats and the orders barking from Orlagk’s mismatched jaws.

  “Well, I guess that’s our cue to leave,” Toby shrugged matter-of-factly.

  “I . . . I can’t,” said Jim, surprising his friends. “Believe me, nobody wants to get home more than me. But I can’t just leave Gogun out there like that. If Tellad-Urr doesn’t kill him, one of those Gumm-Gumms will.”

  “Master Jim,” began Blinky, clapping his four hands along Jim’s arms. “I know you—”

  “Please, Blinky,” Jim interceded. “No offense, but if this is another lecture about not altering the natural flow of the space-time whatever, I already know the drill.”

  Blinky smiled at his champion and said, “On the contrary, Trollhunter. I merely wished to repeat what a wise young man once told me: ‘History is written by the victors.’ ”

  Jim smiled back, galvanized by Blinky’s words, and said, “Then let’s go be victorious!”

  • • •

  Gogun cringed as another Gumm-Gumm collapsed before him. Tellad-Urr kicked the battered body aside, then yanked on Gogun’s shackles to make him keep up. The dark Trollhunter waded through the battle on a direct path to Orlagk, dragging Gogun behind him.

  “Oh, why didn’t I stay under that bridge?” Gogun whined to the kittens under his smock.

  “Your regrets will soon come to an end,” said Tellad-Urr. “Both of ours will.”

  Seeing an opportunity to strike, Tellad-Urr released Gogun’s chains and ran toward Orlagk. The Oppressor raised his Decimaar Blade just in time to repel his crimson enemy’s Sundown Mace.

  “Attacked from within and without, am I?” Orlagk snarled through his overbite. “No matter! This simply makes it easier for me to slay all my nemeses at once!”

  Their weapons met again with a ringing clang. The noise startled Gogun’s kittens, making his favorite scamper into the midst of the battlefield. Held in place by his heavy chains, the old Troll could only reach out and cry, “Shmorkrarg!”

  “Funny, I once knew a cat named Shmorkrarg,” said Jim as he scooped up the helpless kitten and returned her to her rightful owner. “Although I hear that’s a pretty common name.”

  “Kim!” said Gogun. “I am as happy to see you as I am furious we met in the first place.”

  “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you,’ ” joked Jim.

  He set about picking the Gogun’s shackles with more of Toby’s dental wire, unaware of the Gumm-Gumm soldier sneaking up behind him. Before Gogun could warn him, Toby’s Warhammer smacked the Gumm-Gumm back into the fog of war.

  “Thanks, Tobes!” Jim said, still fiddling with the locks.

  “What’re time-traveling friends for?” Toby asked, then hurtled his Warhammer.

  The enchanted mallet flew across the battlefield and connected with the face of another Gumm-Gumm that had been choking Blinky. The six-eyed Troll gave Toby four grateful thumbs up, then tossed the unconscious soldier into one of the many shadow portals summoned by Claire. She projected her next black hole in front of AAARRRGGHH!!!, who galloped into it. An instant later, he emerged out of the matching portal behind enemy lines. AAARRRGGHH!!! swatted away warring Gumm-Gumms in droves, knocking them right out of their helmets. He then cocked his fist and struck at another soldier—only to pull his punch at the last second.

  AAARRRGGHH!!!’s runes faded as he stared the young Krubera in front of him. It was like looking into a mirror. The young Troll’s horns were stubbier and his shoulders were barely covered in mossy green fur, yet AAARRRGGHH!!! recognized the face, for it was his own.

  “You look . . . like me,” said teen AAARRRGGHH!!! before he decked his grown-up self.

  The two AAARRRGGHH!!!s grappled across the moors, tumbling right past Tellad-Urr and Orlagk. The dark Trollhunter swung his Sundown Mace at the snaggle-toothed Gumm-Gumm and said, “You should’ve killed me while you had the chance, Oppressor!”

  “You were too pathetic to be put out of your misery, Trollhunter!” snarled Orlagk.

  The mace clipped him on its return swing, and Orlagk felt his Decimaar Blade fade. He looked up, uneven jaws agape, as his crimson combatant loomed over him. Tellad-Urr the Terrible relished the moment. He raised the Sundown Mace over his one horn, ready to deliver a final, crushing blow to Orlagk, when a peculiar sight arrested the dark Trollhunter’s attention.

  Past the fog, through the acrid smoke of war, he saw that human boy—the one with the look-alike Amulet, the one who had somehow cheated death yet again—freeing the old Troll. Forgetting Orlagk for the moment, Tellad-Urr stomped past the Gumm-Gumms that attacked each other around him and yelled, “You!”

  Jim pulled the last chain off Gogun just before the dark Trollhunter lifted him bodily off the field of battle. His ruined face quivering in fury, Tellad-Urr pulled Jim close and asked, “Why? Why do you persist in doing the wizard
’s bidding? Why endanger yourself time and again for those too weak to defend themselves?”

  “It’s the right thing to do,” said Jim. “I . . . I never needed an Amulet to tell me that.”

  Tellad-Urr the Terrible stared at Jim, his emotions clearly in conflict beneath that weary, abused face. He tightened his hold around Jim’s neck and mentally bid the claws on his free hand to grow even sharper. Bracing for the worst, Jim shut his eyes and lamented that one last dinner with his mom that he would never have.

  With a scream of unbridled anguish, Tellad-Urr dug his claw not into Jim’s face—but into the Amulet embedded in his scarlet breastplate. He dug the ticking device free of his body, making the barbed Sundown Armor turn as immaterial as the fog about them. Tellad-Urr then released Jim, opened the Amulet, and removed the red gem given to him by Gunmar.

  Falling beside Gogun, Jim looked up at the one-horned Troll. Now laid bare in the absence of his armor, Tellad-Urr’s body showed the numerous lacing scars it had acquired in its years of service. Jim’s eyes watered in empathy. Clearly, this was a Trollhunter who had suffered in his tour of duty. With a deep, shuddering breath, Tellad-Urr dropped the gemstone onto the battlefield and ground it to red, sparkling dust under his heel.

  “Merlin, forgive me . . . ,” whispered the formerly dark Trollhunter.

  No sooner had the prayer left his lips than two matching swords sank into his back. Jim and Gogun watched a look of long-awaited relief spread across Tellad-Urr’s face before his body hit the ground—and revealed Bular behind it.

  CHAPTER 17

  IT’S BEEN EDUCATIONAL

  The gyre erupted out of the earth. It ricocheted between the trees in Arcadia’s woods like a pinball before finally coming to rest at the end of a long furrow. Strickler, Nomura, NotEnrique, Steve, and Eli each staggered out of the vehicle—dizzy, but very much alive.

  “That . . . that was . . . ,” Eli stammered.

  “The worst field trip I’ve ever been on! I’d rather go back to that boring museum,” finished Steve.

  NotEnrique thought about it, then said, “Eh. I’ve been on more unpleasant gyre rides than that.”

  “I suppose I do have some experience driving away from bloodthirsty Trolls,” Strickler mused, then looked up at the moon over the sky. “There’s still a few hours before sunrise. We need to find Kilfred and the other Trolls. That is, if they weren’t already discovered during our impromptu jaunt to Trollmarket.”

  The Creepslayerz and Changelings heard a ringing sound carry through the woods.

  “That’s the school bell!” Eli exclaimed.

  “At four in the morning?” Nomura asked suspi-ciously.

  • • •

  Kilfred studied his own reflection in the glossy surface of a soccer trophy before he tossed the award into his mouth and swallowed it whole.

  “Hey! That was mine!” hissed Steve as Eli and the Changelings pulled him back into Strickler’s old office. “I won it fair and square against those punks at Arcadia Oaks Academy!”

  The group peeked their heads back out of Strickler’s door. The Troll mob rifled through the rest of the high school’s trophy case, as well as many of the student lockers. They ate old gym socks, wiped their noses on textbooks, and turned the teachers’ lounge into their own personal toilet. And in the principal’s office, Bagdwella accidentally pressed the public-address button again, setting off the school bell one more time.

  “It was nice of Mr. Strickler to let us into school through his secret passage,” whispered Eli. “But how do we get the Trolls out?”

  Before anybody could answer, Kilfred’s four followers appeared in front of Strickler’s door, fogging the window glass with their breath.

  “Hide!” Nomura ordered, but it was too late.

  The Trolls barged into the office, grabbing her, NotEnrique, and Strickler—but failing to notice the Creepslayerz, who now hid in the secret passage behind Strickler’s bookcase. Steve and Eli heard the Changelings scuffle with the Trolls for a moment, then everything went silent. Cracking open the bookcase a hair, the boys found the office empty and disordered from the recent struggle. Even the masks that adorned Strickler’s space had been knocked to the floor.

  “Um, they’d understand if we just went home now, right?” asked Steve.

  “I dunno,” Eli answered, picking one of the masks from the floor. “I guess I would’ve understood if you all left ‘Romeo’ in Trollmarket. But you didn’t.”

  Steve nodded in solemn understanding and whispered, “Goblins and ghoulies and things that go ‘boo.’ We will pound into goo. We are coming for you.”

  “Friendship forever will stop all the creepers,” Eli continued with the next verse. “We know all the secrets, for we are the keepers . . .”

  “. . . of awesome,” Steve finished.

  As the Creepslayerz started their elaborate handshake, Kilfred’s four Troll students hauled Strickler, Nomura, and NotEnrique into the school gymnasium. They tossed the Changelings onto the blue padded mats, prompting NotEnrique to gripe, “Oi! Easy on the goods, old timers!”

  “Ah, a trio of Impures in our midst,” said Kilfred from atop the highest bleacher, wearing deflated dodgeballs on his horns like ornamental jewelry. “Bind them with the sacred trusses!”

  Nomura rolled her eyes as the Trolls tied her, Strickler, and NotEnrique with jump ropes.

  “I really don’t think Coach Lawrence will appreciate your misuse of athletic equipment, Kilfred,” said Strickler. “Perhaps we could discuss this . . . back at the warehouse?”

  “Never!” bellowed Kilfred, his black-and-white fur rippling. “This Hig-Uh Such-Ool shall be our Troll kingdom once we gain control of the surface world from the fleshbags!”

  “That’s ‘high school,’ skunk-beard!” NotEnrique corrected.

  “And the only one who shall rule the surface world . . . is I,” said a guttural voice.

  The Trolls and Changelings all turned, and the color drained from each and every one of their faces. Gunmar the Gold stood before the gym’s swinging doors, his one eye incensed.

  “Great Gorgus, it’s Gunmar!” cried Kilfred.

  “But . . . how?” asked Strickler.

  “I followed you through your gyre tunnel,” Gunmar said. “And now I shall devour you and—and do other things after that. Evil things!”

  “Noooo!” yelled Steve as he ran out of the boys’ locker room, swinging a folding chair. “You may have eaten poor Eli, but you’ll never eat me!”

  “Ow!” roared Gunmar as Steve hit him with the folding chair. “You shall pay for that, human I have never met before. And the price—is your life!”

  Gunmar wrapped his golden claw around Steve’s head and began to squeeze, causing Steve to scream, “Aaaaah! This is worse than algebra!”

  The horrific sight made Kilfred and the other Trolls run screaming out of the gym’s other exit. But Nomura, still tied up, saw the sky brighten through the windows and said, “It’s nearly morning! You’ll all turn to stone out there!”

  The panicked Trolls hesitated, trapped between Gunmar the Gold and the rising sun.

  “Use the tunnel in my office!” said Strickler. “It’ll lead you underground to the woods. From there, you can find the warehouse. Hurry!”

  Kilfred’s mob raced out of the gymnasium and down the hallway toward Strickler’s office. Now alone with the Changelings, Gunmar dropped Steve’s twitching body, roller-skated to the mats, and pulled off his own face—revealing Eli with a Tiki-like mask in his hands.

  “That was quite the performance, Misters Palchuk and Pepperjack,” Strickler said with admiration. “I see you found the Glamour Mask hidden among the other decorations in my office.”

  “It looked like the one we took from that crate earlier,” admitted Eli. “I heard you say nothing short of Gunmar would scare the Trolls back to the warehouse, so I put two and two together and—”

  “Geez, Eli, nobody wants to hear your life story!” said Steve.

>   “Sorry,” Eli mumbled, then turned to face Ms. Nomura. “And I’m sorry for kissing you without your permission. I guess I wasn’t acting like myself.”

  Nomura arched her eyebrow and said, “ ‘Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.’ ”

  “ ‘Then have my lips the sin that they have took,’ ” sighed Eli, completing the quote.

  “This is incredibly awkward,” said NotEnrique before they started hearing police sirens. “Cheese it, it’s the fuzz!”

  The Changelings and Creepslayerz took in the vandalized high school around them. The empty mole mascot costume fell from the rafters, where it had been thrown earlier by Kilfred. Strickler shook his head in dismay and said, “Somehow, I doubt Detective Scott will buy a second phony eyewitness account from me.”

  “You guys beat it,” said Steve to the Changelings. “The Creepslayerz’ll handle this one.”

  “We will?” asked Eli.

  “You know it, Pepperbuddy.” Steve grinned, a plan forming in his mind. . . .

  CHAPTER 18

  THE WHITE KNIGHT

  Tellad-Urr’s Amulet slipped out of his hand as Bular removed his twin blades. The device rolled across the battlefield and settled right in front of Jim and Gogun, who now hid behind a pile of fallen Gumm-Gumms.

  “Take it!” Jim whispered, pointing to the Amulet.

  “No!” Gogun whispered back.

  “Yes!” Jim insisted.

  Gogun pouted, reluctantly picked up the Amulet, and . . . nothing happened.

  “I . . . I don’t get it . . . ,” Jim said, gobsmacked.

  But his eyes widened as strands of arcane energy wisped out of Gogun’s Amulet and into his own. The old Troll dropped his device like it was suddenly hot. As it once again siphoned power from its counterpart, Jim’s Amulet glowed brighter than it ever had before, the blue magic now verging on white. Bular lurked nearby, and the incandescent display caught his attention.

  “You better run and save yourself, Gogun,” said Jim before he turned and saw that the old Troll was already long gone, running for the hills.

 

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