CHAPTER 4
PHANTOM PAINS
Far across the Darklands, Gunmar the Black sat atop his skull-shaped throne that had been carved from the husk of a dying Heartstone. The crystal seat poured its energies into Gunmar, making the blue veins across his body pulse brighter.
Kodanth and Dictatious knelt at the base of Gunmar’s throne. The flickering energy cast sinister shadows across their faces.
“You’re looking more powerful than ever, Dark Underlord,” said Kodanth.
“Lies,” Gunmar replied as he stood to his full, impressive height. “This Heartstone dies, as does everything in this place. Soon, it won’t have enough power left to recharge me.”
“Th-that is,” Kodanth tried to explain. “What I actually meant to say was . . .”
Gunmar descended from his throne and brushed past the stammering adviser. Dictatious smiled to himself under his hood as his master stood in the middle of the Crucible Pit. Gunmar grabbed black sand from the arena’s stained floor and let it trickle from his claw like some barbaric hourglass.
“This Crucible Pit has been the stronghold that I—the Black, the Vicious, the Skullcrusher—built to show my dominance over the Darklands,” Gunmar said with a snarl. “Now it seems as though it’s a tomb. Bular came so close to freeing me months ago, before—”
Gunmar was about to say more, but his body suddenly seized as a sharp pain shot through his skull. He clutched at his missing eye while the remaining one flared in agony. Dictatious ran past the stunned Kodanth to Gunmar’s side.
“What ails you, great Gunmar?” Dictatious asked.
“My Eye,” said Gunmar, recovering. “Though it has been lost for centuries, it felt like it had suddenly returned to its socket.”
“Or somewhere very close,” Dictatious suggested.
“Could it be?” Gunmar said. “My Eye? Here? In the Darklands?”
“I won’t lie to you,” Dictatious continued, tossing a pointed look at Kodanth. “Your son, Bular, was among the finest of Gumm-Gumm warriors. Yet the human Trollhunter managed to thwart Bular’s plan to return you the surface and best him in battle.”
“Choose your next words carefully,” Gunmar threatened, but Dictatious didn’t flinch.
“The point being, sire, that if he could defeat one so formidable as Bular, then it’s conceivable the Trollhunter might have also obtained your Eye.”
“Impossible,” Kodanth protested. “What about the Janus Order? My network of Changeling spies has protected the Eye of Gunmar since—”
“And yet our Dark Underlord senses its presence nearby,” Dictatious interrupted. “Surely you don’t doubt he who tamed the Darklands . . . do you, Kodanth?”
Now Gunmar fixed his stare upon Kodanth, who shrank under the severe gaze.
“N-no, of course not,” replied a trembling Kodanth.
“And if the Trollhunter followed the Last Rites of Bodus to collect your Birthstone, Killstone, and Eye . . . ,” Dictatious began.
“Then the fool has now come here in a pathetic attempt to stop me,” said Gunmar in understanding. “And, more importantly, has left a portal back to the surface lands. One which I can force him to open. . . .”
“Your brilliance never ceases to astound, my Dark Underlord. The way you pieced all that together—clearly you have no need for an adviser such as I. Let alone two . . . ,” Dictatious said with a smirk aimed at Kodanth.
Gunmar’s eye flickered as he thought over Dictatious’s words. Finally, he spoke.
“Dictatious, dispatch my deadliest soldiers to scour the Darklands in search of Merlin’s champion. If the Trollhunter who robbed me of my son has crossed into this accursed dimension, I would have words with him . . . right before I feast on his entrails and wipe the gore from my jaws with a rag made of his skin.”
“I will escort them personally, Master,” Dictatious said with a bow.
“And what of your loyal servant, Kodanth?” asked the orange Changeling. “Sh-shall I—”
“You shall investigate your Janus Order,” commanded Gunmar. “And discover how they allowed my Eye to fall into the Trollhunter’s possession under your so-called . . . leadership.”
Gunmar lumbered past his two advisers—one pleased, one terrified—and stood before a large gate composed of crystalline orange spikes. He grunted, and the crystal shards retreated into the bedrock, revealing a deep cavern.
“Both of you, leave me to my Horde,” Gunmar ordered. “I must ready them to hunt my other nemesis, Skarlagk. Her rebellion has been a light-ray in my side for far too long. How fitting, then, that both of my enemies shall soon meet the same bloody fate.”
Gunmar descended into the cavern, and the spikes stabbed out again to close the passage behind him. A moment later, a loud chorus of monstrous animal sounds echoed from within the cavern as Gunmar greeted his Horde. Kodanth shuddered at the horrific noise, but Dictatious didn’t seem disturbed in the slightest.
“I think that went well,” he said cheerfully before patting Kodanth on the back with four hands and strolling out of the Crucible Pit.
CHAPTER 5
SEEING DOUBLE
Draal the Deadly prowled through Arcadia Oaks’s dense woods, moving surprisingly silently for such a big Troll. He was careful to stick to the shadows, avoiding the sun—and any unwanted attention from the humans. They would likely scream at the sight of his spiked body. Draal’s coppery mechanical arm parted the bushes in front of him, revealing Barbara just ahead.
Barbara wandered in a daze down the sidewalk that ran alongside the tree line. She was dressed in her usual doctor’s uniform of green scrubs and sneakers. But Barbara seemed lost, even though she was in her own neighborhood, and her eyes appeared unfocused behind her glasses.
Draal’s nostrils twitched as he sensed a subtle shift in the air around him. A split second later, a shadow opened beside him, depositing Claire, Toby, and NotEnrique into the woods.
“I see you received my message concerning Ba-Bru-Ah,” Draal whispered.
“That ain’t how ya say her name, ya glork,” NotEnrique hissed. “It’s spelled Barbara. B-A-R-B—”
“Save the vocab lesson for later,” Claire said as she hushed them. “Draal, we came as soon as we could. Good thing you make a solid emotional anchor for my Shadow Staff. Now, what happened?”
Draal whispered, “I hid in the shady tree outside of the ha-spoo-tahl—”
“That’s hospital,” NotEnrique corrected.
Draal sneered at the green imp and continued. “I kept my oath to guard the Trollhunter’s mother. Only she seems to have healed from her spell earlier than expected. No doubt due to the interference of your ridiculous human medicines!”
“Oh no!” Claire exclaimed, pointing at Barbara. “She just turned onto her street!”
“Let’s move!” said Toby as he bolted out of the woods and onto the sidewalk.
Claire followed with NotEnrique in her arms and watched the Changeling transform into a beautiful blond baby. Now the spitting image of the real Enrique, he blew a raspberry at Draal and said, “Too bad you can’t follow us into the sunlight, Draal the Dopey!”
“Impure scoundrel,” Draal murmured as the others caught up with Barbara.
“Doctor Lake!” Claire called out.
Barbara turned around and saw Toby, Claire, and what appeared to be her baby brother running toward her.
“Toby! Claire!” Barbara said with a shaky voice. “Shouldn’t you be in school with Jim?”
“Our school’s, um, closed,” Toby fibbed. “Due to an outbreak of, uh, head lice!”
“And it, er, spread to Enrique’s day care too!” Claire added.
NotEnrique pretended to scratch an itch in his blond hair, completing the lie.
“Oh,” said Barbara, swaying on her feet.
“You okay there, Doctor L?” Toby asked. “No offense, but you seem kinda wobbly.”
“Just recovering from a concussion,” Barbara said with a weak laugh. “Apparently,
Jim drove me to the hospital yesterday after I accidentally slipped and hit my head at home.”
Barbara paused. Her brow creased, as if she was trying to recall something just at the edge of her memory.
“At least, I think that’s what Jim told me,” she added. “He couldn’t stay long. Jim said he had to do something . . . something important. Where is Jim anyway? I couldn’t find my car at the hospital, and he hasn’t been answering any of my calls.”
She continued down the sidewalk, and Claire and Toby exchanged a nervous look. They ran in front of her again, trying to block Barbara’s path.
“Who, Jim? Jim Lake Junior? Your son?” Toby rambled, stalling for time. “He’s, uh, back at school.”
“But I thought you said school was closed?” Barbara asked.
“I mean he’s at, ah, culinary school!” Toby said. “Didn’t he tell you he’s taking cooking lessons on the side? That scamp!”
“Really?” said Barbara, confused. “My son should be teaching cooking lessons.”
“I know, right?” Claire took over, now standing directly in front of Barbara. “But you know Jim. So dedicated to his craft.”
“I . . . guess . . . ,” Barbara said as she side-stepped Claire and continued on her way.
“We gotta do something!” said Toby in an urgent whisper. “We’re less than a block from casa del Jimbo!”
NotEnrique gave the A-OK sign and said, “Time to dust off me best material.”
The baby in Claire’s arms started to cry at the top of his lungs. Barbara paused at the corner of her street and looked back at “Enrique.”
“What’s the matter, little guy?” Barbara said in a soothing, motherly voice.
NotEnrique winked at Claire and Toby before wailing louder than ever.
“Let Doctor Lake have a look-see,” said Barbara as she took the baby into her arms. “Oh, yes, Jim used to cry like this when he was hungry. How about we get you back to your home and find you a nice, warm bottle?”
Toby and Claire privately fist-bumped as Barbara started leading them away from her block. They managed to go a few feet before a police car sped past them, its sirens blaring as it made a sharp turn down Barbara’s street.
“What in the world . . . ,” she wondered aloud. “Hang tight, guys. Someone might be hurt.”
Barbara handed Enrique back to Claire and broke into a run after the police car. Toby and Claire turned to NotEnrique in surprise.
“Don’t blame me,” he said. “The ol’ waterworks always kill with the lady types!”
The trio took off after Barbara and found her standing in front of her driveway. Only she wasn’t alone. The front lawn was completely overrun with police activity. Several black-and-white squad cars sat parked outside, lights spinning. Uniformed cops strung yellow POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS tape around the yard. And beyond them, Barbara’s house stood in shambles, its front door kicked open and tons of interior damage visible through the windows.
“Jim!” cried Barbara as she rushed up to the police. “My son—is he in there?”
Detective Scott of the Arcadia Oaks Police Department met Barbara at the edge of her property, his hands held up in a calming gesture.
“Easy, Doctor Lake,” said Detective Scott. “Nobody’s hurt, thank goodness. Neighbors reported strange sounds coming from your place last night and then saw the mess this morning. Looks like your home was broken into while you were gone. Fortunately, nothing appears to be missing. Except your car, that is.”
Barbara massaged the sides of her head, trying to stay calm and recall recent events.
“It isn’t missing,” Barbara finally replied. “Jim drove me to the hospital. He must still have it.”
“Nah, your car’s totaled,” Toby blurted out, before immediately covering his big mouth with his hands. At least he left out the part about Barbara’s car getting wrecked in an epic battle for Heartstone Trollmarket.
“He means totally, uh, clean!” Claire improvised unconvincingly. “Because Jim, um, took it to the car wash? While he’s still in culinary school? Due to the aforementioned head-lice situation at our school?”
Barbara and Detective Scott both stared at Claire and Toby in utter disbelief.
“Tobias Domzalski and Claire Nuñez, I’m starting to think neither of you are being completely honest with me,” Barbara said sternly.
“No, we, uh,” Toby blathered. “I mean, he—she—I—it’s, it’s—”
“It’s okay!” came a familiar voice from behind them.
Everyone turned and discovered the last person they expected to see.
“I can explain everything,” said Jim Lake Jr. from under the shade of a tall oak tree. “Rest assured, this situation is totally under control!”
CHAPTER 6
LABYRINTHINE AND SERPENTINE
“This situation is totally out of control!” said Jim.
“Whattaya mean, amigo?” said Rob as he darted along the labyrinth, lighting their way with his body, like a torch.
Every time he landed at a new spot in the maze, Rob left behind a small patch of fire, which Jim had to stomp out with his armored feet.
“It’s Doctor Despot, isn’t it?” Rob went on. “Don’t worry. We’re gonna blow his entire crime syndicate sky-high, rescue the mayor, and still get you home in time for your daughter’s piano recital. So swears Gun—”
“You’re not Gun Robot!” yelled Jim. “I’m not Gun Robot’s partner! And there is no Doctor Despot! We’re in the Darklands—not the plot of Gun Robot 2!”
“Gun Robot 3, you mean,” Rob corrected. “But you’re right. I should just learn to be myself around friends.”
“We’re not friends!” Jim scowled as he stamped out another blaze.
“Oh, okay,” said Rob, his fiery lips pouting. “I get it. I mean, who’d want to be friends with a burning freak like me?”
Jim sighed despite himself. Seeing Rob standing there with his head stooped and his lit arms hanging at his sides, Jim couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him.
“I . . . I’m sorry, Rob,” said Jim. “It’s got nothing to do with you. I . . . I’m just keeping a strict ‘no friends’ policy while I’m down here. I need my mind clear of all emotional attachments so I can do whatever it takes to rescue Enrique and stop Gunmar.”
“Aw, I could never stay mad at you!” Rob said, instantly happy again. “Now, let’s high-five, freeze-frame, and roll credits!”
Jim let out an irritated groan and marched past Rob’s outstretched hand. The Trollhunter continued along their chosen path until he reached yet another fork in the road.
“Wait,” said Jim as he studied his surroundings. “Weren’t we at this exact same spot hours ago?”
“Huh, I dunno. All these passageways start looking the same after a while,” Rob said as he rubbed his chin in thought.
“Didn’t you say you could lead me through this maze?” Jim asked, his anger rising.
“Sure,” Rob said. “Eventually.”
“Eventually?!” Jim hollered.
His loud voice echoed throughout the labyrinth, until another dreadful shriek answered it.
“That . . . sounded close,” Jim said in a voice that had grown hoarse with thirst.
“Lock and load,” Rob replied as he made finger guns with his fire hands.
Jim concentrated once again, and the Sword of Eclipse and Shield returned in a black-and-red flash. The Trollhunter held a shh finger to his chapped lips as he crept past Rob and up to the fork in the road. Taking a deep breath, Jim slowly craned his head down the left tunnel. Empty. Jim’s body unclenched. Steadying his nerves, he then approached the right tunnel and peeked into it.
A gargantuan, glowing eel sprang out of the darkness and snapped at the Trollhunter with rows upon rows of spiny teeth.
“Whoa!” shouted Jim before he stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding the bite.
The bioluminescent serpent screeched again in hunger and slithered out of the tunnel, blocking both sides of
the fork with its long, coiled body.
“Nyarlagroth!” cried Rob as the eel circled them. “Run for it!”
Rob shot flames at the Nyarlagroth, all while making sound effects with his mouth. But the flames didn’t affect the eel in the slightest. Its radiant, leathery skin didn’t even have a singe mark on it.
“Oh right,” Rob remembered. “These guys are fireproof.”
The Nyarlagroth released its most deafening shriek yet. Jim covered his ears and ran, with Rob hot on his heels. They retraced their steps, turning left, right, right again, then left—no, right—no, left!—until Jim’s armored body slammed into a dead end.
His head still ringing from the impact and the Nyarlagroth’s screech, Jim pushed himself off the cold stone floor and looked around. The Trollhunter discovered he was all alone.
“Rob?” Jim called out. “Where are you?”
A faint glow appeared just beyond the dead end, and Jim chuckled in relief.
“Whew!” Jim said as the glow grew closer and brighter. “I thought we got separated back there, Rob. You gave me quite a—”
Jim’s next word caught in his throat as the source of the glow reached the dead end.
“—scare.”
Jim swallowed hard as the Nyarlagroth, not Rob, cornered him. Its lips peeled back, exposing teeth as tall as Jim, if not taller. The eel’s jaws parted, and a long tongue lanced out. It wrapped around the Trollhunter like a tentacle. Jim heard the plates of his armor crunch and scrape as the tongue started to squeeze.
“Gah!” Jim wheezed, the air being forced from his lungs.
He tried to summon the Glaives to appear in his hands, but Jim found it harder and harder to concentrate. He began to black out. With his vision growing murky, Jim could only watch helplessly as the Nyarlagroth pulled him closer to its open, dripping mouth. The Trollhunter shut his eyes, bracing for the worst, until another shrill cry filled the dead end.
Jim felt the tongue suddenly loosen around his body before it dropped him to the cold ground again. Gasping for air, Jim struggled to his feet and looked up with blurry eyes.
Welcome to the Darklands Page 3
