by Onk Beakman
Cynder frowned. “Could it be a trap?”
“I’m not sure,” Eon admitted. “And then there’s the small matter of what the Book of Power showed me this morning.”
Squirmgrub’s head shot up. “Th-the Book of Power?” the Warrior Librarian said, his mechanical voice unnaturally shrill. “You didn’t tell me you were going down to the Forbidden Vault.”
“No,” said Eon tersely, not looking at Squirmgrub. “I did not.” Cynder glanced over at the towering librarian. Like many of the Skylanders, Cynder thought there was something not quite right about this particular archivist. Was Master Eon getting just as suspicious?
“And what did you find?” asked Hex, floating nearer.
Eon reached into one of his sleeves and pulled out a scroll of parchment.
“The book showed me a map,” he said, unrolling the paper.
“The location of the Life segment?” Hugo asked, wringing his hands together.
“I’m not sure,” Eon admitted. “But I took the liberty of making a copy just in case.”
“But a map of what?” demanded Squirmgrub, surprisingly brusquely.
Eon turned the paper toward them, showing a perfect drawing of a storm-battered island, located in the middle of a black sea and surrounded by a looming range of jagged mountains.
“The Isle of the Undead.” Cynder gasped.
Chapter Four
The Isle of the Undead
“Bamboo-yaaaaaaa-ARGH!” Zook yelled as he jumped from Master Eon’s Portal. Hex had warned him that the island was a dark and stormy place, but he hadn’t expected to be hit by lightning the moment he arrived. “Woah,” he said, shaking his trunk to clear his head. “That’s one shocking welcome.”
“What did you expect?” Cynder snickered, appearing beside him. “This is the Isle of the Undead.”
“One of the spookiest and deadliest places in Skylands,” added Hex as she materialized behind the others, warily eyeing up Zook. Normally, any living soul who set foot in an Undead realm would instantly join the legions of the Undead. But, like all Skylanders, Zook was protected from the Isle of the Undead’s dark power by one of Eon’s spells. Still, Hex couldn’t resist peering at Zook to make sure all was as it should be. Satisfied, she floated forward to check if the coast was clear. “Stay on your guard,” she continued. “There are creatures here that would startle even the strongest heart. Hideous beasts and foul spirits lurk at every turn.”
“Yeah,” grinned Cynder. “Isn’t it great?”
“If you like gloomy and grim forests, I guess.” Zook looked around at the gnarled old trees that stretched up to the glowering sky. His leaves were still smoldering from the lightning strike. “But hey, it’s new. I like new. What are we waiting for? Let’s find this Morbo guy.”
“And the Undead segment of the mask, too,” reminded Cynder. “Surely it’s no coincidence that we’ve been summoned to the exact same place the book displayed?”
“Wait!” Hex interrupted, floating in front of them. “We are not alone!”
“We’re not?” asked Zook, his grin fading ever so slightly as he swung his bazooka into firing position.
“No, I sense something is watching us. Something evil.”
Cynder spun around. She couldn’t see anything.
“There’s nothing here!” she whispered, her scales tingling with anticipation.
“Yeah, there is,” said Zook. “Heads up!”
Cynder looked up, straight into the many eyes of a gigantic Gargantula!
The monstrous spider dropped from its web, sticky saliva spraying from its snapping jaws. Its six muscular, hairy legs were raised, ready to crash down on Cynder. “Volts and lightning!” she exclaimed, opening her mouth to unleash a blast of black bolts. While some dragons breathed fire, Cynder breathed spectral electricity, and the Gargantula got a full charge right between its many eyes. It shrieked as it was knocked out of the way, landing on its massive back, all six legs scrabbling in the air. Another blast of black lightning disintegrated the monster forever.
“Ha! That was a blast!” Cynder cheered.
“So are they,” warned Zook, pointing forward. “Look out!”
Cynder looked again. A legion of tiny yellow arachnids was scuttling from where the Gargantula had been.
“Spiderlings!” Cynder shouted, zapping the four-legged creatures with her electric breath. “Now that’s just cheating.”
“Do not let them touch you,” Hex advised, firing orbs of uncanny energy at the advancing carpet of spiders. “They explode on contact.”
“That might be trickier than you’d think,” shouted Zook, aiming his bazooka at the trees. “They’re everywhere.”
Zook was right. Spiderlings were crawling down every single tree. The Bambazooker was firing shell after shell into the swarm, but it wasn’t doing any good. For every Spiderling he blasted, half a dozen took its place.
“Stand back-to-back,” Hex ordered. “Cover every angle.”
“They’ll be covering us in a minute, heh-heh,” Zook pointed out as they fell into position.
“Not if they can’t get to us,” Hex disagreed, clapping her hands together. A ring of giant bones burst out of the ground, surrounding them. “My Bone Fortress has held back Cyclops Mammoths and Skull Golems.”
“A few hundred Spiderlings shouldn’t be a problem then.” Zook grinned, ever the optimist.
“Not unless they’re small enough to crawl through your rack of ribs,” pointed out Cynder, ever the pessimist. Sure enough, Spiderling legs were already appearing around the tightly packed bones.
“No worries. Old Zook’ll fill in the gaps,” said Zook, preparing to summon a ring of bamboo to bolster Hex’s bones.
SPLUT!
Something sticky hit him on the shoulder.
“Uh-oh,” he said. “Spider webbing.”
Zook was pulled off his feet and yanked through Hex’s bony defences toward the Gargantula that was reeling him in. If this wasn’t bad enough, every time he bounced over a Spiderling, it exploded beneath him.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!”
“No rest for the wicked.” Cynder sighed, flying out of the bone circle. She came about, her mouth open, ready to blast the Gargantula that was about to snack on Zook.
THWACK!
Cynder cried out as she flew headfirst into something—something she couldn’t see.
“What is this?” she yelled as she thrashed around, only succeeding in becoming more entangled in her invisible restraints.
“Stop struggling,” Hex commanded from below, now trying to hold back the Spiderlings by herself.
“Easy for you to say.”
“You’re trapped in a Moon Widow’s web,” Hex shouted. “The stickiest threads of all. The more you fight, the worse it will become.”
Cynder forced herself to be still. Hex was right. She had flown straight into a huge web, the strands so thin they could hardly be seen, yet still as strong as steel. Above her, a bloated four-legged spider was descending. A Moon Widow—as poisonous as her web was tough.
“Hex,” Cynder cried out, looking back down at her friend. “Got an anti-spider spell up your sleeve?” But her voice trailed off. Hex was still in the middle of the bone circle but something had changed. There was a tree in there beside her. An old dead tree. And it hadn’t been there before.
Cynder’s eyes widened as she realized what it was. “Hex, look out,” she bellowed in warning. “Stump Demon!”
But it was too late. With the sound of splintering wood, long, twisted arms burst out of the tree trunk, the bark splitting open to reveal two glaring eyes and a mouth full of sharp wooden teeth. With a roar, the Stump Demon lunged at Hex.
Chapter Five
The Stump Demon
“No!” Cynder roared as the Stump Demon attacked, its clawed hand rushing down
to strike Hex.
Or so Cynder had thought. At the last minute, the demonic tree twisted, its massive fist smashing into the ground. Roots shot out in every direction like the spokes of a gnarled wooden wheel, ripping through the soil and hitting the advancing Spiderlings. The scuttling yellow bundles detonated, triggering a chain reaction that wiped out the whole swarm.
The creature lurched back at Hex, who immediately threw up her hands to defend herself with a spell.
“No!” shouted a voice from amid the Stump Demon’s twisted branches. A translucent head appeared. It was a ghost wearing a huge pair of glasses.
“Help your friends,” the specter shouted. “We’ll hold back as many spiders as we can.”
Hex spun in place, reciting an ancient spell. There was a crack of thunder above and it began to rain—not water, but screaming, glowing skulls. They fell on the Moon Widow’s web, their chattering teeth chomping through the strands with ease. Cynder tumbled back to the forest floor, flapped her wings, and flipped over, landing next to Zook’s bazooka.
“Missing this?” With a whack of her tail, Cynder sent the weapon skittering across to Zook. The Bambazooker grabbed his boom-tube and aimed it into the Gargantula’s bulging belly.
“Locked and loaded,” he grinned, pulling the trigger.
BANG!
The giant spider was sent spiralling back into the trees, but Zook didn’t celebrate. Instead he twisted, pointing the bazooka straight at Cynder!
“Hey, what are you—?”
Zook fired. The hardwood shell rocketed straight over Cynder’s head and smashed into the Moon Widow that had reared up behind her. With a startled shriek, the four-legged beastie scuttled away to safety.
“Woah,” Cynder said, puffing her cheeks out in relief. “Thanks, Zook.”
“No prob—,” smiled the ever-cheerful Skylander, wiping sticky spider spit from his arm. “We beat them bad.”
“Thanks to our new friends,” reminded Hex as she banished her bone fortress with a snap of her fingers. The bones crumbled into dust to reveal the Stump Demon, who instantly roared and raised its huge arms to swipe at the sorceress.
“You sure it’s friendly?” asked Zook, preparing to fire at the creature.
“He is, he is,” said the ghost with the gigantic glasses, popping out again from the Stump Demon’s branches.
“Really?” said Cynder, stalking forward. She wasn’t quite ready to trust a Stump Demon just yet.
“Well, no. The truth of the matter is that he’s a ravenous monster who is the enemy of all living beings,” admitted the ghost. “But he’s promised the mayor that he’ll help you. We both have.”
“That must go against the grain,” Cynder sneered. “A Stump Demon forced turn over a new leaf.”
The Stump Demon growled ominously.
“And the tree puns aren’t helping, trust me,” the ghost cut in, placing a placating, soothing hand on the Stump Demon’s trunk. “There there, Dogwood. Good boy. They don’t mean anything by it.”
Dogwood didn’t look like he believed the bespectacled specter. In fact, he looked as if he was considering biting the ghost’s hand clean off.
“And you are?” asked Zook, finally dropping his bazooka.
“My name is Flunky,” the ghost replied, bowing slightly. “The Night Mayor’s personal secretary.”
“Well, whoever you two are,” Cynder said, never taking her eyes off the Stump Demon, “you arrived just in time. We nearly became spider snacks.”
“What she means to say is thank you!” Zook chuckled.
Flunky waved the gratitude away. “Don’t mention it. The Night Mayor sent us to meet you. We’re to take you to him.”
“Why did Morbo call for us?” Hex asked.
“I’m sure he will explain,” replied Flunky, indicating for them to follow him. “I just hope you can get to the root of our problem.”
“Heh-heh!” guffawed Zook, as Dogwood roared with displeasure. “Now who’s making tree puns?”
Flunky looked worriedly at the Stump Demon. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know that, don’t you, Dogwood, old pal, old chum?” The Stump Demon just glared at the ghost, who nervously led the Skylanders deeper into the forest.
Night Mayor Morbo was possibly the plumpest ghost that Cynder had ever seen. He was standing—or should that be floating?—in the middle of Ghost Town, the capital of the Isle of the Undead. A cobweb-covered top hat was perched on his transparent head, and a huge chain of golden bones hung around his spectral neck.
As the Skylanders walked into the town square, led by Flunky and Dogwood, Cynder could feel hundreds of spectral eyes resting on them. It was clear that no one had seen a living soul here for a very long time.
“Skylanders,” the mayor exclaimed as he spotted them, his voice sounding like a whisper on the wind. “How horrible to see you.”
“Eh?” said Zook, confused. “I thought he invited us.”
“It’s just how they talk here,” Hex whispered, trying not to cause offense. “Horrible means . . .” She searched for the right word. When she found it, the look on her face told Zook that it wasn’t one she often used. “It means delightful. Foul means fair. Fair means foul.”
“You’ll soon get used to it,” said Cynder.
“Good,” said Zook. “Or do I mean bad?”
“I understand you were attacked by some of our six-legged friends on your arrival,” Morbo murmured. “How utterly lovely for you. Please accept my apologies. I have put the word out that you are not to be harmed.”
“You are most kind,” Hex said, bowing in gratitude.
“And you are the most disgusting creature I have ever seen,” the mayor simpered, gazing lovingly at the sorceress.
“Hey, there’s no need to be rude,” Zook cut in, trigger finger itching.
“He’s not,” hissed Cynder quickly. “Remember? Bad is good.”
“Disgusting is beautiful?” Zook asked, scratching his leaves.
“You’ll get it soon,” Cynder insisted, before turning her attention back to the ghost. “So, Mayor Morbo. How can we help?”
The mayor checked the watch that hung from his golden chain of bones and his face fell.
“I’m afraid you’re about to find out.”
Chapter Six
Hurrikazam
The clock struck thirteen. Suddenly, without warning, the dark clouds that usually rolled across the island’s leaden sky vanished, and beams of bright sunlight shone down.
“Woah!” exclaimed Zook. “Where are my shades when I need them?”
Beside him, Mayor Morbo stifled a sob. “See? This is the problem. No one has ever needed sunglasses on the Isle of the Undead before.”
“But this is impossible.” Cynder gasped as the sun immediately warmed her scales. “It’s never daytime on the Isle of the Undead!”
“Someone tell that to the sun!” Zook said, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s beautiful.”
“Exactly. It’s the best thing that has ever happened to us!” moaned the mayor, meaning the complete opposite, of course.
All around them, green shoots sprouted from the cracked earth, leaves immediately unfurling on usually dead branches. Blossoms were even appearing on Dogwood’s arms.
“Awwwww, no. Not again. Pretty flowers. That’s all I need.”
“I can see why you sent for us,” Hex said in hushed tones. “This much beauty and life must be agony for you all.”
“Yeah,” Cynder agreed. “The Isle of the Undead is known for its dark and stormy nights, not its bright and breezy days.”
“And the worst is yet to come,” Morbo said, pointing into the sky. “Look.”
The Skylanders followed his gaze. A cloud had formed, but not like the one that had caused so much trouble in the Cloudless Desert. Yes, this cloud was grow
ing in size as it approached the island, but that wasn’t all. The cloud was changing shape. The nearer it got, the more it looked like a gigantic head.
Zook’s bazooka already had the fluffy cloud in his sights. “Heads up!” he shouted. “Literally. You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Cynder bared her fangs. “If you’re thinking that a huge head in the sky usually means only one thing, then yeah. I sure am.”
“Kaos,” Hex hissed, orbs rising from her open palms. “Prepare to rest in peace, foul follower of Darkness.”
“Rest in peace?” Zook laughed. “He’ll rest in pieces when I’m finished with him. Heh-heh.”
But Cynder wasn’t so sure. She was peering at the cloud that had grown to fifty times its original size and was now hanging directly over the town. “Wait up, guys. That doesn’t look like Kaos.”
Zook squinted, looking closer at the cloud. “I don’t know. It’s ugly enough to be Kaos.”
“I’ll give you that, bamboo boy,” Cynder admitted. “But since when did Kaos have long white hair?”
“And an even longer mustache,” Hex added, still ready for action.
Sure enough, the giant head had flowing silver locks that waved in the breeze and a thick, silky mustache hanging down underneath its massive hooked nose. As they watched, the cloud shifted again to form a gigantic pointed hat, festooned with lightning bolts and suns.
“No, that isn’t Kaos,” confirmed Morbo, as the cloud’s shadow settled over the town square. “It’s someone much, much worse.”
“Worse than Kaos?” repeated Zook. “Is that even possible?”
“Silence,” boomed the head, its voice like seventeen thunderstorms rolled into one. “The Mighty Hurrikazam demands your tribute.”
“Demands our what?” Cynder asked, her ears still ringing.
“Our tribute,” said Morbo sadly. “An offering. It’s the same every day. Flunky, tell them to bring forth the tribute.”
“Yes, Mr. Mayor. Right away,” Flunky said, hurrying over to the town hall. “What are you waiting for? Bring out the pies!”