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Terrafin Battles the Boom Brothers

Page 1

by Onk Beakman




  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

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  Written by Cavan Scott

  Illustrated by Dani Geremia—Beehive Illustration Agency

  © 2015 Activision Publishing, Inc. Skylanders Universe is a trademark and Activision is a registered trademark of Activision Publishing, Inc. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  ISBN 978-0-698-19898-2

  Version_1

  Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  About the Author

  Chapter One: Professor Puck’s Fantastic Fair

  Chapter Two: “Step Right Up, Step Right Up”

  Chapter Three: The Professor

  Chapter Four: Rocky Rocks Out

  Chapter Five: A Sticky Situation

  Chapter Six: An Explosive Situation

  Chapter Seven: Squirmgrub

  Chapter Eight: Junk Mountain

  Chapter Nine: The Trash Ogre

  Chapter Ten: The Explosive Emporium

  Chapter Eleven: Inside the Factory

  Chapter Twelve: Terrafin Has an Idea

  Chapter Thirteen: The Escape Pod

  Chapter Fourteen: Bow Before the Boom Brothers

  Chapter Fifteen: The Earth Segment

  Special Excerpt from The Mask of Power: CYNDER CONFRONTS THE WEATHER WIZARD

  About the Author

  Onk Beakman knew he wanted to be a world-famous author from the moment he was hatched. In fact, the book-loving penguin was so excited that he wrote his first novel while still inside his egg (to this day, nobody is entirely sure where he got the tiny pencil and notebook from).

  Growing up on the icy wastes of Skylands’ Frozen Desert was difficult for a penguin who hated the cold. While his brothers plunged into the freezing waters, Onk could be found with his beak buried in a book and a pen clutched in his flippers.

  Yet his life changed forever when a giant floating head appeared in the skies above the tundra. It was Kaos, attempting to melt the icecaps so he could get his grubby little hands on an ancient weapon buried beneath the snow.

  Onk watched open-beaked as Spyro swept in and sent the evil Portal Master packing. From that day, Onk knew that he must chronicle the Skylanders’ greatest adventures. He traveled the length and breadth of Skylands, collecting every tale he could find about Master Eon’s brave champions.

  Today, Onk writes from a shack on the beautiful sands of Blistering Beach with his two pet sea cucumbers.

  Chapter One

  Professor Puck’s Fantastic Fair

  “Step right up, step right up! Professor Puck’s Fantastic Fairy Fair is in town. You will be amazed! You will be astonished! You won’t believe your eyes!”

  Gurglefin the Gillman rubbed his webbed hands together with glee. He’d been waiting for this moment all year. Professor Puck’s fair was famous throughout Skylands. Everyone knew about it. The crazy games, the fin-raising rides, the strange sights. And the delicious smells. Oh, the smells. Doughnuts, popcorn and pretzels, toffee apples, cotton candy and gingerbread. Just thinking about it made his mouth water.

  The only problem was choosing what to try first. Everywhere he turned, Gurglefin was presented with fresh treats and new opportunities for fun and excitement: Lights flashed, music played, and carnival folk called out, trying to entice him to their various stalls.

  Then something caught his eye. There, behind the spiral slide and the Hook-a-Chompy game, stood a small, modest-looking red tent with a hand-painted sign hung over its dark entrance:

  MADAME DESTINY:

  FORTUNES TOLD,

  FUTURES PREDICTED

  There, thought Gurglefin. That’s the place to start. Madame Destiny can tell me what I’d enjoy most.

  He waddled over excitedly, coins ready to cross Madame Destiny’s hand. There she was, sitting at the mouth of the tent, hunched over a crystal ball. She was wearing a dark crimson scarf around her head and a pink sequined veil across her face. As he drew nearer, Gurglefin slowed. There was something sinister about the old woman. Something not quite right. Maybe it was her piercing red eyes or the stubby fingers she waved over the crystal.

  But, after coming this far, Gurglefin was in no mood to be a scaredy-catfish. This was just a harmless bit of fun, a harmless old woman. Nothing to be afraid of at all.

  He crept closer to the stall and cleared his throat.

  “Um, h-hello?” he croaked. “Madame Destiny?”

  The hag didn’t look up. He tried again.

  “Madame Destiny, I was wondering if you could—”

  “What do you want?” the woman snapped, throwing her arms around the crystal ball, as if trying to hide it from view.

  “J-just to have my fortune told,” stammered Gurglefin.

  “And why should I do that?” she shrieked.

  “Um, because you’re a fortune-teller?” he suggested, holding out two coins with his shaking hand.

  The old woman growled, looked at the coins, and then looked at Gurglefin. Without warning, she shot out a hand, snatched the coins away, and snarled at the nervy Gillman.

  “You want to know what the future holds?” she barked, fixing him with a wicked glare.

  Gurglefin just nodded, wondering if he really did.

  “Are you sure?” she teased, her veil shifting as if she was smiling underneath.

  “I g-guess so . . .”

  “Then I predict you’ll come to a STICKY END,” Madame Destiny screamed. “NOW SLING YER HOOK, FISHFACE!”

  Gurglefin did just that. He quickly scampered out of the tent and into the crowd, not looking back. Madame Destiny had been so angry. But why? And what did she mean? A sticky end? He didn’t like the sound of that.

  Gurglefin paused to catch his breath, his gills flapping and his heart racing. Perhaps coming to Professor Puck’s Fantastic Fairy Fair hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

  Then he smelled something that made him all but forget his horrible experience with the fortune-teller.

  “Cotton candy!”

  Gurglefin followed his nose until he found a robot producing stick after stick laden with wonderfully sweet-smelling cotton candy from a door in its chest.

  “Hello, sir,” the robot chirped happily. “I am Sweet-O-Tron 3000. Can I help you?”

  “Cotton candy, please,” Gurglefin said eagerly, pressing a coin into the robot’s outstretched metal hand.

  “Certainly, sir,” Sweet-O-Tron said, handing over the biggest stick of cotton candy Gurglefin had ever seen. “You enjoy the rest of the fair.”

  “I will now,” said Gurglefin, grabbin
g the stick and wandering away happily. Mmmmmmmm. This was the best cotton candy he’d ever tried. It smelled fantastic, tasted even better, and sounded like . . .

  Hang on. It sounded like a clock. Since when did cotton candy tick?

  No, Gurglefin realized with a start. It sounds like a bomb!

  “Oh my Cod!” Gurglefin exclaimed, suddenly holding the treat at arm’s length. “My cotton candy is going to explode!”

  What was he saying? Of course it wasn’t going to explode. It was cotton candy. Ticking cotton candy, yes, but candy doesn’t generally explode in your face. Does it? Gurglefin laughed at his own panic. What a silly sardine he was.

  Then he remembered Madame Destiny’s words: “You’ll come to a sticky end!”

  Gurglefin screamed, and the cotton candy went bang in his face.

  Chapter Two

  “Step Right Up, Step Right Up”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Terrafin the dirt shark punched the air as he appeared in the middle of Professor Puck’s Fantastic Fairy Fair. Behind him, Sonic Boom and Hot Dog also flashed into existence, deposited in the middle of the field by one of Master Eon’s magical Portals. Usually the sudden arrival of a walking shark, a griffin, and a flaming lava hound would have drawn a crowd, but here they were just one wondrous sight among many. Not that Terrafin minded—the dirt shark had been looking forward to this for a long time.

  Terrafin, like his two companions, was a Skylander—a sworn protector of Skylands, a vast realm of floating islands and endless skies. Recruited by Eon, greatest of the Portal Masters, the Skylanders spent their days defending the vulnerable, fighting the forces of Darkness, and generally being pretty amazing. But today was special. Today they were getting a day off! The last few months had been crazy. Their archenemy—the evil Portal Master known as Kaos—had been trying to find an ancient artifact called the Mask of Power. Long ago, the mask had been split into eight segments and scattered throughout Skylands, but now Kaos was trying to put it back together. He had one segment, but the Skylanders had found two others. No one really knew what would happen if Kaos completed the mask, as the secrets of its true power had been lost in the mists of time. But the Skylanders didn’t want to find out. Kaos was bad enough on his own. Kaos with a super-duper mystical object from the dark times was too much to even think about.

  But for today, Terrafin didn’t have to worry about evil Portal Masters, ancient magical artifacts, or even the safety of Skylands. Today, all Terrafin and his Skylander buddies had to worry about was having fun with a capital F-U-N!

  “Test your strength!” bellowed a voice nearby. “Make the bell ring and claim your prize!”

  Terrafin’s toothy grin spread even wider. Test your strength? No problem. He was so brawny that even his biceps had biceps. Flexing his muscles, the dirt shark hurried over to the strong-man stall.

  “Hey,” Terrafin said, brandishing a gold coin. “I’d like a try!”

  “Certainly, sir,” the dog-faced carnival barker said, regarding the Skylander with shifty eyes. “If you could just wait your turn?”

  In front of the Skylander, a tiny Mabu was struggling to lift a massive, oversize hammer.

  “That’s it,” the carnival barker said with a sneer. “Hit the target and ring that bell.”

  Hit the target? It was all the Mabu could do to pick up the hammer. Finally, with a grunt, the little fellow managed to swing the thing over his head. It thudded onto the base of the Test Your Strength machine . . . but the bell didn’t ring. In fact, the marker that was supposed to shoot up to the bell didn’t even budge.

  The carnival barker snickered at the disappointed Mabu.

  “Never mind. Better luck next time.”

  “My turn,” insisted Terrafin, flipping the coin at the carnival barker and grabbing the hammer. He didn’t like the way the carnival barker had gloated. Not one bit.

  Gritting his teeth, the dirt shark swung the mallet and slammed it onto the target. BRRRING! The marker zoomed up the machine and clanged into the bell at the top, sending out a mighty ringing sound.

  “Oh yeah!” shouted the triumphant Terrafin. “I’m king of the ring. Now give me my prize!”

  Muttering congratulations, the carnival barker reluctantly shoved a cuddly teddy-clops into Terrafin’s hands.

  “Here ya go, kid,” Terrafin said, tossing the prize at the little Mabu before heading back to find his friends.

  Across the fairgrounds, Sonic Boom was enjoying a game of Hoop-a-Sheep with her chicks, while Hot Dog was bouncing up and down on all fours.

  “Hey, Terrafin,” the molten mutt barked excitedly. “Can we get some food now? Woof! Can we? Can we? Can we?”

  But Terrafin didn’t answer him.

  “You hear that, SB?” the dirt shark asked, cocking his head to the side.

  The griffin frowned. All she could hear were the sounds of the fair—excited children, thundering rides, and jaunty music. But wait, there was something else. Something quiet. Something sad.

  “Someone’s crying,” she realized, her motherly instinct kicking in. “We need to find them.”

  “But I’m hungrrrrrrry,” moaned Hot Dog.

  “You’re always hungry,” snapped Terrafin, trying to work out where the sound was coming from. “Let’s see what’s wrong.”

  And with that they were off, Sonic Boom’s chicks snapping back into their shells as their mother chased after Terrafin.

  Hot Dog didn’t follow, though. Instead, he sat bolt upright, sniffing the air.

  “Bow-wow-wow-wow,” he yapped. “What’s that?”

  A smell had drifted over the fair; it was the sweetest, most mouthwateringly delicious smell Hot Dog had smelled all day. Or at least in the last five minutes. The pup glanced at his friends for a second and then bounded in the opposite direction, following his nose.

  “It sounds like it’s coming from just around this tent,” Sonic Boom called over her shoulder. She had taken to the air to track down the source of that weeping sound, her super-sensitive ears working overtime.

  And she was right. Soaring around the tent, she came to rest beside a huge slate-gray Stone Golem. The craggy creature was sitting on the floor, hugging its moss-covered knees, its massive boulder-like shoulders heaving with each heavy sob.

  “Hey, what gives?” Terrafin asked, running up beside Sonic Boom.

  The Stone Golem looked up and wiped a tear from his dark eyes.

  “Oh, it’s n-nothing,” he sniffed, granite cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

  “It doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Sonic Boom said kindly, placing a comforting paw on the Stone Golem’s shoulder. Her eyes fell down to the rusty metal ring fastened around his ankle. “What’s your name?”

  “R-Rocky,” the Stone Golem stammered, “and I’m fine. Really I am. It’s just that I’m about to go onstage and I get really nervous before a gig.”

  “You’re putting on a show?” Terrafin asked, his eyes lighting up. “That’s cool.” Before he had become a Skylander, Terrafin had been a boxing champ, and he still missed the thrill of the ring from time to time.

  “Not for me,” Rocky admitted. “I hate performing. Always have. Look at me. I’m so nervous I’m sweating pebbles.”

  “Then why put yourself through the wringer?” Terrafin asked, crossing his thick arms across his broad chest. “Throw in the towel if you hate it so much.”

  “I can’t,” Rocky whimpered, his voice surprisingly small for such a large creature. “He won’t let me.”

  “Who won’t?” asked Sonic Boom and immediately got her answer.

  “Rocky?” a voice boomed from behind them. “Where are you, you sniveling slag heap? If I find you crying again . . .”

  At the very sound of the voice, Rocky crumbled, his tears flowing freely.

  “He won’t,” the Stone Golem whi
ned. “Professor Puck.”

  Terrafin and Sonic Boom exchanged a worried glance. Rocky was obviously petrified of whoever was hollering. Not that the others could blame him. Whoever it was, he sounded terrifying.

  “Rocky!” the voice bellowed. “There you are . . .”

  Gulping, Terrafin turned to see the owner of the deafening voice, expecting to find a giant looming over them. His eyes grew wide as he saw who the voice really belonged to.

  Chapter Three

  The Professor

  Professor Puck wasn’t a massive, muscle-bound mountain of a man. In fact, he hardly came up to Terrafin’s knees. He was a gnome, and even by their tiny standards, a short one.

  Dressed in red velvet tails and wearing a hat nearly as tall as he was, he bustled toward the amazed Skylanders.

  “Rocky!” the professor thundered, his voice impossibly loud for such a small fellow. “This is ridiculous. Do we have to go through this every time?”

  “Hey, give the guy a break,” Terrafin said.

  Puck spun on his heels and fixed Terrafin with a beady stare. “And who might you be?” he snapped, his admittedly impressive mustache twitching beneath a bulbous nose. “This area is off-limits to the general public.”

  “Well it’s a good thing we’re not the general public, then,” Terrafin growled, his fin prickling with frustration. “We’re Skylanders.”

  Even that didn’t seem to make any impression.

  “Well, whoever you are, you are in Professor Puck’s way. Stand aside, sir.”

  Dumbstruck, Terrafin did what he was told—something that didn’t happen very often.

  “Now, pull yourself together, Rocky m’boy,” Puck barked. “It’s showtime!”

  “But I don’t want to,” the Stone Golem sniveled, his head hanging low. “You know I go to pieces in front of an audience.”

  He wasn’t joking. Rocky had been crying so hard that one of his shoulder boulders had rolled loose.

  “Nonsense. You’re the biggest rock star this fair has ever known. Pull yourself together, kid. Your adoring public awaits.”

 

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