The Mask of Power

by Onk Beakman

  “Need a leg up?” the tree asked, realizing what Flameslinger was planning. The sprinting elf didn’t reply, but he leaped up, landing on the mallet that Stump had already dropped to the floor. Stump threw up his arm, propelling his friend into the air. Flameslinger flipped head over burning heels until his feet were pointing straight toward the incoming dragon’s head. With a loud crunch, Flameslinger’s heels smacked into the dragon’s skull, knocking it to the side.

  The dragon roared, flying off to the right, while Flameslinger tumbled back to the ground and landed gracefully on his feet.

  “Okay, I’ll admit it,” sniffed Glumshanks, “that was pretty impressive.”

  “We haven’t even started.” Flameslinger grinned and waved his hands in the air. The Bone Dragon had recomposed itself and was swooping low over the wailing treetops. “That’s it, big guy. Catch me if you can.”

  Flameslinger turned and waited for the dragon to fly into the clearing.

  “Get Glumshanks back to the balloon,” the elf yelled. “I’m going for a little run.”

  With that he raced into the trees. The dragon bellowed and flew over the crater, following Flameslinger’s smoking path. The rest of the group watched for a moment as the monster blasted the forest with its laser breath, swerving this way and that as it pursued the speedy Skylander.

  “Come on,” Stump Smash urged, stomping toward Glumshanks. “Flameslinger’s fast, but we don’t have long.”

  Glumshanks trembled as the tree raised one of his heavy mallets right above the Troll.

  “What are you doing?” Glumshanks squeaked and screwed his eyes tight as Stump brought his hammer-like hands smashing down.

  The ground shook with the impact and, when Glumshanks opened his eyes, he saw that the imposing Skylander had just smashed the rock around his petrified feet.

  “Stop whimpering and get on my back,” Stump Smash instructed him.

  “You’re going to carry me?”

  “Can you walk?”

  Glumshanks looked down at his still-solid legs. He shook his head sadly.

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  They made their way back to Flynn’s airship, while the dragon dived again as it tried to freeze the fleeing Flameslinger.

  “I don’t w-want to w-worry you,” Glumshanks stammered, “but it’s coming this way!”

  “We’re nearly there,” shouted Countdown as they cleared the trees. Sure enough, the balloon was already straining at its tethers, Flynn having patched up the basket and prepared for take-off.

  “What kept you guys?” he asked, before looking up and spotting the dragon. “Actually, scratch that. I can work it out for myself. Time we weren’t here.”

  “No kidding, Hugo!” said Countdown as he scrambled into the basket, Wrecking Ball bouncing up behind him. “Now get us out of here!”

  “Hugo?” Flynn asked.

  “He’s a little confused,” explained Stump Smash as he scrambled up. “He just went boom.”

  Flynn was already working the controls. “No problemo. If we can take off before that thing gets here, he can call me anything he likes. Except Daphne. I’m definitely not a Daphne.”

  “Stop babbling and help me aboard,” snapped Stump Smash, who was still only halfway into the basket. “These hands were made for clobbering, not climbing.”

  Flynn and the others grabbed Stump Smash’s arms and hauled him into the basket, but Glumshanks lost his grip and tumbled back onto the ground.

  The Troll flailed around on his back like an overturned beetle. “I can’t stand up!” he wailed. “Help me.”

  Behind him, Flameslinger burst from the trees and vaulted through the air to land in the basket.

  “I suggest we leave,” the elf said, panting, as the beat of the Bone Dragon’s wings filled the air. “As soon as possible.”

  “Anchors aweigh,” Flynn shouted, releasing the balloon’s tethers with a flourish. “Next stop: out of here!”

  “Hey, what about me?” yelled Glumshanks. As the balloon rose, a long barbed tongue shot over the edge of the basket, wrapped itself round the Troll’s ankle, and pulled him after them.

  “Oh the indignity,” he moaned as he was dragged through the air upside-down, suspended by Wrecking Ball’s tongue. But his whines soon turned to screams of terror when he spotted the Bone Dragon flying straight for them.

  “Doesn’t this thing ever give up?” shouted Countdown, blasting missiles at the creature, but the dragon swerved in the air, gracefully avoiding every one.

  “Don’t worry,” shouted Flynn. “I recently installed a turbo boost on this baby. Bring on the awesome!” He dramatically flicked a switch—but nothing happened. “Uh-oh!”

  “And the awesome is arriving when, exactly?” yelled Stump Smash.

  Flynn wiggled the switch until it snapped clean off. “Oops,” he said, trying to reconnect it. “I probably should have followed the instructions. Heh. Who knew?”

  The dragon zipped by them, battering the balloon in its wake. It turned and rushed back, jaws open wide. Countdown prepared to fire another volley, but it was too late.

  The monster’s laser breath crackled toward them, hitting the balloon. In a heartbeat, the canvas turned to dense, heavy rock.

  Now, there’s one thing you need to know about stone balloons: They don’t float. In fact, they do the complete opposite. They fall.

  Very fast.

  As Flynn’s passengers cried out, the now-petrified balloon flipped over and plunged down toward the island, dragging the basket (and Glumshanks) with it.

  Chapter Six

  The Spotter’s Guide

  to Hideous & Dangerous Monstrosities

  CRASH! The stone balloon shattered into a thousand razor-sharp shards as the Skylanders thudded to the ground. Stump Smash groaned and looked up to see the dragon swooping down to finish them off. It opened its mouth, preparing to turn them into stone when . . .

  “BUUUUURP!”

  A cloud of stinking green mist rushed up to envelop the bony beast. The creature brought itself to a stop, massive wings trying to waft away the foul stench. When it became obvious that nothing could drive away the smell, the dragon turned tail and flew in the opposite direction as fast as it possibly could.

  On the ground, Countdown and Flameslinger cheered. Pulling himself back to his feet, Stump Smash turned to see Wrecking Ball looking very pleased with himself.

  “Power Belch?” Stump asked, trying not to inhale.

  “My best yet,” said Wrecking Ball with a smile so wide it nearly split his body in two. “Good thing I ate all those sky-sprouts before we set off. That one’s been brewing for a while.”

  “And people say Trolls are disgusting,” grumbled Glumshanks, lying flat on his back and holding his nose.

  Flynn sidled up to Stump Smash. “Let’s hope that flying boneyard doesn’t come back anytime soon.” He looked sadly at the broken remains of his beloved balloon. “Even I won’t be able to fix this one.”

  “How are we going to get home?” asked Wrecking Ball. “None of us can fly.”

  “Then we’d better ask someone who can,” said Countdown, pointing his missiles at the sky. He fired off a barrage that exploded high above, the detonations spelling out a message in mile-high letters.

  S.O.S.

  “Save our Skylanders.” Flynn nodded. “You may be a little on the forgetful side, short stuff, but you’re one smart bomb. Boom!”

  “Thanks, Cali,” said Countdown, happily.

  Countdown’s message worked. They were picked up by Lightning Rod, on his way back from Fantasm Forest. The Storm Titan whipped up a howling gale that blew them all the way back to the Eternal Archive.

  The only problem was that the journey got Wrecking Ball so excited that he burped the whole way. He really had eaten a lot of sky-sprout
s, and no one could be sure if the Skylanders looked greener than normal due to the unusual transportation or Wrecking Ball’s extra gas.

  But there was no time to wait for their stomachs to settle. As soon as Hugo heard about the creature from the crater, he hurried off into the depths of the archive. He returned half an hour later, complaining about the Warrior Librarians’ indexing system, but clutching a book under his fleshy arm.

  “What have you got there, Hugo?” asked Flameslinger as the Mabu gasped for breath.

  “It’s the Spotter’s Guide to Hideous and Dangerous Monstrosities,” Hugo said, flashing them a cover that showed a particularly fearsome-looking Fire Viper. “Only the second edition I’m afraid, but I’m sure it’ll do.”

  He led them over to a reading table. “You better bring that appalling bridge-dweller. We might need his help.”

  The Skylanders followed him, and Flameslinger dragged a chair containing the now securely bound Glumshanks. Petrified legs or not, they weren’t taking any chances. Not since Squirmgrub’s betrayal.

  Hugo slapped the book down on the table and started flipping through the pages. “Now, you said the beast that attacked you was some kind of dragon, correct?”

  “Yeah,” said Countdown. “But I can’t remember ever seeing one like it before.”

  Hugo gave the Tech Skylander a withering look. “Can you remember what you had for breakfast this morning?”

  “Of course I can,” Countdown huffed, sounding annoyed . . . before admitting that he actually couldn’t.

  “It was new to all of us,” Stump Smash said, jumping to Countdown’s defense. “Like a gigantic skeleton.”

  “A dragon made of bone, eh?” said Hugo, turning back to the beginning of the guidebook. “Like this, maybe?”

  Flameslinger peeked over Hugo’s shoulder. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s exactly it.”

  “The Bone Dragon,” said Hugo, always happy to drop into an impromptu lecture. “Once, there used to be hundreds of these things, maybe thousands—but they died out centuries ago. They are completely and utterly extinct.”

  “Except for the one that tried to turn us into statues,” pointed out Flameslinger. “That one looked pretty lively to me.”

  “It must have been buried beneath the ground,” said Wrecking Ball.

  “And released when General Disaster detonated his bomb,” added Glumshanks. “Does your book say anything about undoing its magic?” The Troll glanced down at his stone legs. “There has to be a way of reversing its laser breath, right?”

  Hugo ran a furry finger down the page. “Indeed there is. Those petrified by the Bone Dragon’s breath can be returned to flesh and blood by steam from the creature’s nostrils.”

  Flameslinger looked at the rocky weapon he still held in his hand. “I wonder if it works on enchanted bows?” he said sadly.

  “And all those trees,” Stump Smash added, glaring at Glumshanks. “The ones the Trolls didn’t blow up, that is.”

  “First things first,” Hugo said, taking a step closer to the bound Troll. “You’re sure Kaos said the Bone Dragon was the Life fragment?” asked Hugo, peering at the Troll.

  “Lord Kaos didn’t say much at all,” Glumshanks admitted. “He was too busy trying not to get turned to stone.”

  “But the Book of Power was glowing?” asked Stump Smash.

  “Brighter than the Core of Light.”

  Hugo took off his glasses and wiped them on his jacket. “And there’s our problem. Do we try to track down this Bone Dragon or keep searching for Master Eon? Decisions, decisions.”

  “Sounds to me like they’re the same thing,” said Countdown.

  “Yeah,” agreed Wrecking Ball. “If the Bone Dragon is the Life segment of the Mask of Power . . .”

  “Kaos won’t be far behind,” said Flameslinger.

  “And Kaos has Master Eon,” Countdown concluded.

  “What do you think, Stump Smash?” Hugo asked the Life Skylander, but the tree wasn’t listening. Instead, he was studying the picture of the Bone Dragon in the book.

  “I know my bark’s a bit thick at times,” he said when he realized they were all looking at him. “But is there something wrong with this picture?”

  Flameslinger cast his blindfolded eyes over the drawing. “Don’t think so. I’d recognize that thing anywhere. It chased me halfway around the island, remember?”

  Stump scratched his chin with a mallet. “I know, but I can’t help but think that something is missing.”

  “That’s right,” interrupted a voice. “Master Eon and the Book of Power.”

  Spyro had walked into the library, his eyes boring into the back of Glumshanks’s neck.

  “Where is he?” the purple dragon snarled. “Where is Kaos?”

  Glumshanks visibly shook as Spyro padded over. “I cannot say,” Glumshanks began, his voice wavering. “Lord Kaos—”

  “Has crossed a line,” said Spyro, smoke curling from his nostrils. “He’s gone too far this time.”

  “I won’t tell you where he is,” Glumshanks insisted, sticking out his chin in a surprising show of bravado. Perhaps there was more to this Troll than met the eye. “There’s nothing you can do to make me betray my master.”

  Spyro was now snout to nose with the Troll. “Nothing at all?”

  Glumshanks shook his head. “No,” he squeaked. “Not a thing. There’s no point even looking for Kaos. You’ll never find him.”

  “Oh, okay,” Spyro said, stepping away. “Fair enough.”

  Glumshanks’s brow furrowed. “Is that it?”

  “Well, if you won’t tell us,” Spyro continued, walking over to the table. “I’ve been wanting to look at this book of Hugo’s anyway.”

  “You have?” Hugo asked, as mystified as Glumshanks.

  “Yup,” Spyro confirmed. “Far more interesting than boring old Kaos.”

  Stump Smash couldn’t help but comment. “But, don’t we need to find Kaos?” he asked.

  Spyro started flicking through the Spotter’s Guide. “Nah! It’s not like he’s important.” He paused on a page showing a three-headed serpent. “Ooh, a Hydra. Those are pretty tough.”

  “Not important?” Glumshanks spluttered. “Lord Kaos is the most important Portal Master in the history of Skylands!”

  Spyro thought about this for a minute. “Hmm. Nope, I don’t think so. He’s not all that.” He turned his attention back to the book. “Besides, as you said, there’s no point even looking for him. No one cares about him anyway.”

  “No one cares?” Glumshanks said, not believing his ears. “Well, they should. Okay, so he treats me like dirt—”

  “And never says please or thank you,” added Spyro.

  “Or gives me a day off.”

  “Or remembers your birthday.”

  “But I don’t care,” Glumshanks snapped. “It’s an honor to serve him. Always has been and always will be. He’s probably working out how to rescue me right this minute.”

  Spyro didn’t even acknowledge Glumshanks this time. He was too busy reading about two-headed spiders. The Troll was incensed, rocking back and forth in his chair.

  “You wait until he’s captured the Bone Dragon and taken it back to the Troll Bastion,” he ranted. “It’s only the beginning. Soon he’ll have the remaining segments, and then he’ll be heading right back here to rescue me.”

  A smile played across Spyro’s lips. “You’re probably right,” the dragon said. “What a shame that you’re so loyal. A pity that you’d never spill the beans about where he’s hiding.”

  “Never!”

  “Like the Troll Bastion.”

  Glumshanks’s face fell.

  Spyro turned back to Kaos’s lackey. “That is where you said he’d take the Bone Dragon, isn’t it?”

  “Um,” said Glumshanks, realizing his mi
stake, “I—I could be lying?” he offered, weakly.

  “Are you lying, Glumshanks?” Spyro asked quietly.

  The Troll looked at his feet. “No,” he admitted, no doubt realizing how much trouble he would be in when Kaos got ahold of him. Stone legs would be the least of his problems.

  Spyro stalked nearer the Troll. “When I came in, you thought I was going to attack you, didn’t you?”

  Glumshanks nodded, still not looking up.

  “That’s what Kaos would have done if the tables were turned, if I were the one tied to that chair.”

  “He’d point out that you would be—”

  “Doomed!” cut in Spyro. “It’s lucky for you that I’m not like Kaos. None of us are. We could have finished you off or left you behind, but we’re Skylanders. We’d never do that. Master Eon taught us that lesson from day one. Do you understand?”

  Glumshanks didn’t speak. He just sat there, staring at the floor. Spyro had no idea if his message got through or not—but he had bigger things to worry about right now.

  “All right,” he said, springing into action. “Flameslinger, come with me. We’ll find the Bone Dragon. We can’t let Kaos get hold of another segment.”

  The elf lifted his stone bow. “This won’t be much good against the beast.”

  Spyro placed a paw on the archer’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll bring the rest of the Skylanders. You can lead the way.”

  “I’ll blaze a trail to the creature,” Flameslinger promised. “You can count on me.”

  “What about us?” asked Countdown. “Should we join you?”

  Spyro shook his head. “No. I need you, Stump Smash, and Wrecking Ball to attack Troll Bastion.”

  “And rescue Master Eon?” the grub asked with a grin.

  Spyro nodded. “Think you can manage it with just the three of you?”

  Wrecking Ball was already bouncing up and down in anticipation. “I can roll with that!”

  “Yeah,” Stump Smash agreed, smacking his mallets together at the thought of wading through Troll defenses. “You just leaf it to us.”