The Mask of Power

by Onk Beakman

  “You do realize that there are thousands of Trolls in the bastion, don’t you?” Glumshanks butted in. “Thousands and thousands of Trolls versus just three Skylanders.”

  Chapter Seven

  Troll Bastion

  “So, I drop you fellas off at this Troll Bastion thingy,” Flynn said, firing up his brand-new balloon’s propeller, “and then pop back when you’ve saved the old guy, right?”

  “Wrong,” rumbled Stump Smash, staring ahead intently. The prospect of charging headfirst into a heavily armored Troll castle was the best thing that had happened to him all week!

  “Oh yeah,” Flynn said, sending a blast of hot air up into the balloon. “I guess Master Eon will be able to Portal you home. You won’t need me. You sneak in, and I’ll skedaddle back to the archive. Job done.”

  “That’s not exactly how I remember the plan,” admitted Countdown.

  “That’s hardly surprising, my explosive little buddy,” said Flynn, patting Countdown’s head before realizing that tapping a live bomb was probably not the best idea he’d ever had.

  “That won’t work either,” Stump Smash said, checking to see if Glumshanks was still dangling from the bottom of the basket in his chair. “The Troll Bastion is a floating fortress. Its walls go right up to the edge of the island. There’s nowhere to land.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Flynn asked. “ Jump? If I knew that was the plan I’d have packed some parachutes. I don’t usually see the point of them. They just take up space.”

  “We’re going to attack from the air,” Stump Smash said, as the Troll Bastion appeared on the horizon. “A frontal assault. No landing. No sneaking. And definitely no skedaddling. Got it?”

  Flynn looked at Stump Smash, then at the rapidly approaching fort with its dozens of cannons, catapults and gun turrets, and then at his shiny new balloon.

  “Oh well,” he finally said, opening the airship’s throttle. “No one ever got to be awesome by playing it safe. If you’re going to fly into danger, destruction, and other scary things starting with the letter d, you might as well do it with Skylands’ greatest pilot. Let’s do this thing. Boom!”

  The balloon shot forward. Glumshanks screamed in terror as every gun on the Trool Bastion locked on to their position.

  The battle didn’t exactly go as planned. The nearer the balloon got to the bastion, the more guns appeared. They clanked into position along giant oiled tracks. They popped through portholes. They even appeared from the barrels of other guns—which seemed like a bit much, to be honest. The one thing you can say about Trolls is that they never go into battle without being armed to the teeth. In fact, they never go anywhere without being armed to the teeth—which is why you can never find any dentists in Skylands.

  Before long, Flynn had to swerve the balloon from left to right to avoid cannonballs, missiles, and, strangely, rabbits.

  “Who invents a rabbit catapult anyway?” said Flynn as a long-eared projectile whistled over his head.

  “Trolls, that’s who,” replied Stump Smash, whacking an incoming shell with a mallet.

  The other Skylanders were just as busy. Countdown was returning fire, sending one hand-missile after another back at the bastion.

  Meanwhile, Wrecking Ball was snatching cannonballs out of the air with his tongue and swallowing them, before burping out little clouds of smoke as each one detonated in his belly.

  “Mmm, tasty,” he commented after gobbling down a fizzing stick of dynamite. “Although it could use a little salt.”

  Stump Smash spat out a mega nut, before hammering it at the bastion. On the ground, Stump Smash’s spiked nuts and acorns were able to take out whole armies of minions with a single shot, but here they hardly even dented the bastion’s heavily armored plating. The Life Skylander snorted in frustration as the nut bounced off the fort with a resounding clang.

  “We need to get closer if we’re ever going to smash our way through,” Stump Smash barked. “It’s the only way.”

  “It’s the only way to get shot down,” Flynn yelled back, jumping to avoid a missile that blasted straight through the basket and out the other side. “I like futile heroic gestures as much as the next guy, but we’re not going to do Master Eon any good if we’re blown out of the sky.”

  “Flynn’s got a point,” Wrecking Ball said, belching on another bomb. “We need a new plan.”

  “Plans are your department,” Flynn said. “My department is keeping us in the air while still appearing funny, debonair, and unbelievably handsome.”

  “Okay, okay,” Stump Smash said, desperate to shut up the pilot for a second so he could think. “I’m sure we’ll come up with a plan B if we use our heads!”

  Countdown let out an excited laugh. “That’s it, Stump Smash! That’s exactly what we’ll do. You’re a genius.”

  Stump Smash looked at Wrecking Ball and shrugged. “I am?”

  Countdown pulled the other Skylanders into a huddle. “This is what we’re going to do.”

  On the bastion, the Trolls were having a whale of a time. The only thing they liked better than trying to blow up somebody was actually blowing up somebody. It was in their top five pastimes, along with blowing up bridges, blowing up towns, blowing up islands, and blowing up sheep.

  When they weren’t blowing up things, they were planning how to blow up things. And when they weren’t doing that, they were asleep (and dreaming about blowing up things).

  “Hey, I can’t believe my luck,” said Troll Gunner Blastchops as he emptied more shells from his hideously powerful cannon.

  “I know,” said Troll Gunner Boomwhiskers from the next turret. “This is the best day of my life!”

  Blastchops’s green face fell. “Oh no,” he groaned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The Skylanders’ balloon. It’s retreating.”

  Boomwhiskers stared down his sights. “You’re right. Now, that is disappointing. I was looking forward to blowing it up.”

  “Me too,” said Blastchops. “Of course, I would have blown it up much betterer.”

  “No you wouldn’t.”

  “Yes I would.”

  “No you wouldn’t.”

  “Yes I would.”

  This kind of thing happened quite a lot at the Troll Bastion. Before long, Blastchops and Boomwhiskers were fighting, trying to insert live sticks of dynamite into each other’s ears, nostrils, mouths, and pants.

  “Hey!” bellowed a voice from behind. It was Sergeant Slackheap, a particularly ancient and hard-of-hearing Troll, going deaf after years of using dynamite as a cure for earwax. “What’s going on?”

  Blastchops and Boomwhiskers scrambled to attention, accidentally hitting themselves on their noses with dynamite when they tried to salute.

  “Sorry, sir. It was Blastchops,” said Boomwhiskers. “He said that you wouldn’t know a missile if one dropped on your head.”

  “I never!” spluttered Blastchops.

  “He did, sir!”

  “Did not!”

  “Did so!”

  “Did not!”

  “SIIIIILENCE!” yelled Slackheap, not that he could hear them anyway. “What’s happening with the enemy?”

  “They’re retreating, sir,” reported Boomwhiskers.

  “What was that?” asked Slackheap.

  “RETREATING!” shouted Blastchops. “You know. Running away. Heading for the hills.”

  “‘Paying their bills’?” Slackheap repeated, getting angrier by the minute. “What are you two talking about? And what’s that?”

  Blastchops looked where Slackheap was pointing. There, on the battlements, lay an enormous black bomb.

  “It’s an enormous black bomb,” said Boomwhiskers.

  “A what?”

  “A bomb.”

  “What did you say?”

 
“A BOMB, SIR!” yelled Blastchops. “A REALLY BIG BOMB!”

  Slackheap tut-tutted. “What do you mean ‘I’ll ask my mom’? It’s an enormous black bomb of course. Any idiot can see that. But where did it come from?”

  “No idea,” said Boomwhiskers.

  “Not a clue,” said Blastchops.

  “‘Right on cue’?” Slackheap said, shaking his head. “You boys speak gibberish. We’d better take it to General Disaster. He’s always interested in mysterious explosives that appear under suspicious circumstances. Let’s go.”

  Boomwhiskers and Blastchops followed Sergeant Slackheap into the heart of the Troll Bastion, lugging the enormous black bomb.

  “Where did you find this?” the general asked when he set eyes on the explosive—only to raise a hand and stop Slackheap from answering as soon as he saw the look of confusion on the sergeant’s wrinkled face. “On second thought, I’ll ask the Gunners.” General Disaster was actually brighter than you’d expect, especially for a Troll.

  “It was lying on the battlements,” said Boomwhiskers.

  “And it’s not one of ours?”

  “Nope,” said Blastchops.

  “So where did it come from?”

  “From the Skylanders’ balloon,” said a voice.

  “How do you know that?” asked Boomwhiskers.

  “Know what?” said Blastchops, scratching his long nose in puzzlement.

  “Know that it came from the balloon,” said Boomwhiskers.

  “I don’t know that.”

  “But you said.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Oh, for Arkus’s sake,” said the voice. “It wasn’t him. It was me.”

  Boomwhiskers and Blastchops both stared at the enormous black bomb, as did the general. Sergeant Slackheap just stared ahead, having not heard a thing.

  “Did that bomb just speak?” the general asked.

  “Of course I did,” said the bomb, opening its eyes. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go boom.”

  “Boom?” said both Boomwhiskers and Blastchops.

  “Yes,” replied the bomb. “BOOM!”

  The room exploded in a burst of sudden, searing flame.

  Chapter Eight

  Into the Breach

  “BOOM!” Flynn cheered as one of the Troll Bastion’s walls exploded. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

  “He did it!” yelled Wrecking Ball.

  “Did what?” asked Countdown as a new head magically appeared back on his shoulders.

  “You blew up the bastion.” Stump Smash chuckled and slapped the Tech Skylander on the back.

  “Great!” Countdown said, looking pleased with himself. “Who are you?”

  “No time for that now, my concussive companion,” interrupted Flynn. “We’ve got a fortress to storm. Hold on to your missiles. We’re going in!”

  The pilot slammed down a lever and the balloon’s propellers roared into life, rocketing the ship forward. They raced straight for the breach in the bastion’s defenses. Desperate Trolls attempted to fire their damaged cannons—only managing to blow themselves up in the process.

  “That’s it, Flynn,” shouted Wrecking Ball as they approached the gap in the walls. “We’re nearly there. Keep going.”

  “No problem,” Flynn said, looking up from his controls. “Actually, scratch that. Big problem.”

  Stump Smash looked toward the bastion. Six walking tanks had stomped into the breach, each pointing a stubby cannon at the balloon.

  “Stomper M-fives,” Countdown confirmed as the first tank fired off a shot. “Those things are nasty.”

  Shells started exploding near the balloon.

  “That was close,” Flynn whimpered. “Too close. As in any-closer-and-we’re-toast close.”

  “It’s fine,” grumbled Stump Smash. “We can take it from here. Wrecking Ball?”

  The grub leaped into the air. “Give me a hand, Stump Smash.”

  “I’ll give you a hammer,” replied the Life Skylander, whacking Wrecking Ball with a mallet. He shot over to the bastion, smashing into one of the Stompers.

  “Your turn,” Stump Smash said, turning to Countdown.

  “Here,” said the living bomb, pulling off one of his hand-missiles and giving it to the tree. “You’ll need this.”

  “Thanks,” Stump Smash said, flipping Countdown over to join Wrecking Ball.

  “How are you going to get over there, chief?” Flynn asked, as a Troll mortar exploded dangerously near the balloon.

  Stump Smash held Countdown’s hand-rocket above his head and grinned.

  “Like this!” he yelled as the rocket fired, propelling him out of the basket and over to the waiting battle.

  “Show off,” Flynn muttered as he put the balloon in reverse. “You’d never catch me acting like that.”

  On the bastion, Countdown and Wrecking Ball were seeing off the Stomper M5s as Stump Smash dropped down from the rocket. The missile continued on its way, blasting one of the walking tanks apart. A Mace Major pilot was thrown from its seat, straight toward Stump’s waiting mallets.

  The Life Skylander brought them together, crushing the Troll. “You’ve been stumped,” he said as the bruised trooper tumbled to the floor.

  “I like this place,” Wrecking Ball said, rolling beneath a Stomper’s legs and bringing it crashing to the ground. “Plenty to damage.”

  “Don’t forget why we’re here,” Countdown said, blasting the sole remaining Stomper.

  “We need to find Eon.”

  Stump sent a Troll flying out of the hole in the wall. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go smash!”

  “I’m on a roll,” Wrecking Ball shouted as he knocked an entire squadron of Trolls from their feet as easily as if they were skittles in a Kangarat bowling alley.

  “We must be in the center of the fortress by now,” said Countdown, making sure that the Trolls all landed on at least one of his missiles.

  “Battering ram!” Stump screamed, knocking a huge dent in the metal door blocking their way. It flew from its hinges, revealing a vast holding bay.

  “They’ve gotta be in here,” said Wrecking Ball, finally coming to a halt as Countdown and Stump Smash looked around.

  “We’ll find ’em,” Stump growled. “That’s a promise.”

  “The only thing you’ll find is trouble,” promised another voice. The Skylanders looked up to see a beastly Troll standing in front of them, glowering at them with one good eye.

  “General Disaster,” Stump snarled. “If you think you can scare me, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “He’s just an old gasbag,” said Wrecking Ball, bouncing in front of Stump Smash. “Let me handle this one.”

  “You?” the general snickered. “A chubby grub? You want to take on the scariest Troll since Captain Trollbeard Braingobbler, the warty pirate chief?”

  “That’s right,” said Wrecking Ball.

  “The bravest Troll since Major Bravetroll McCourageous, the champion of the battle of Nightmare Isle?”

  “Uh-huh.” Wrecking Ball nodded.

  “The strongest Troll since Brawnbrain the Mighty, ten-time winner of the Iron Troll of the Year contest?”

  “Absolutely,” insisted Wrecking Ball.

  “Ha! You don’t stand a chance, little Skylander,” General Disaster jeered. “Not when I’m armed with this.” The Troll pulled out a rifle that immediately started to transform—extra muzzles popped out of its chunky barrel, laser sights clicked into place, and inexplicable missile systems swung into view. Before Wrecking Ball could even blink, he was the target of at least two dozen separate missiles and even
a few arrows for good measure.

  “How do you feel now?” General Disaster said, grinning behind his sights.

  “Hungry,” said Wrecking Ball, flicking out his tongue. It struck the general in the chest and pulled the Troll, massive gun and all, into the grub’s open mouth.

  Wrecking Ball swallowed the general whole, burping quietly as his stomach gurgled.

  “Mmmmm,” he said, licking his lips. “Tastes like chicken. Time for dessert?”

  “I don’t think so,” shouted Countdown, who had rushed ahead as soon as Wrecking Ball had dispatched the smug soldier. “Look at this.”

  “What have you found?” asked Stump Smash, who was trudging after the Tech Skylander.

  “Not so much what,” replied Countdown, “as who.”

  He stepped aside to reveal a stone figure.

  “Kaos.” Wrecking Ball stared at the frozen statue and gasped.

  “At least we know why he didn’t rescue Glumshanks,” said Countdown. “The Bone Dragon turned him to stone.”

  “And the Book of Power, too,” pointed out Wrecking Ball as he spotted the mystical book, which now looked as if it were carved out of rock. It was still held in Squirmgrub’s petrified hand. “General Disaster must have brought them back to the bastion.”

  “At least we’ve found the book. Maybe we can get the Bone Dragon to turn it back?” wondered Countdown, turning to see Stump Smash looking mournfully into the shadows. “What’s up, Stump Smash?”

  The tree didn’t answer, but merely pointed one of his hammers at the back of the room. Countdown gasped.

  There stood a tall, thin statue trapped in a stone cage. It had a long rock beard and was stretching out a hand as if trying to stop something terrible from happening.

  “Oh no,” said Wrecking Ball, his bottom lip quivering. “Not him!”

  Stump Smash nodded as he stared right at the figure. It was worse than they’d imagined. Master Eon has been turned to stone as well.

  Chapter Nine

  Cornered!