Age of the Amulet

by Richard Ashley Hamilton

  “Wha—Jim?!” Barbara yelped.

  Jim pulled his mom into a hug with one arm and, with his free hand, he caught the knife by its handle behind them. Barbara’s surprise gave way to happiness. She hugged her son in return and said, “And here I was worrying that you were getting too old for these.”

  “Never, Mom,” Jim replied from the bottom of his heart.

  Barbara squeezed her son a little tighter before she let him go. Jim subtly returned the Santoku to the knife block without his mom seeing and said, “Now, what would you say to a nice, home-cooked meal of grilled polenta cakes served under a hearty mushroom ragout and accompanied by a side of sautéed kale with crispy garlic and chilies?”

  “I would say that sounds delish—” Barbara began before a buzz interrupted her.

  “This is Gun Robot. You have a text message,” announced Jim’s ringtone.

  “Ah, it’s just Tobes,” said Jim, pulling out his cell phone. “He probably wants . . .” He trailed off as he read the text:

  JIMBO! COME QUICK!! YOU KNOW WHERE!!!

  “. . . to ruin my evening,” Jim finished under his breath.

  “What’s that, honey?” Barbara asked, not quite hearing that last part.

  Recovering, Jim said, “Toby’s, um, just reminded me that I promised to help with our Español homework tonight. But I can probably just blow him off . . .”

  Jim’s cell phone buzzed with another text from Toby:

  DUDE! IT’S CRAZY-TOWN BANANA-PANTS! I REPEAT:

  CRAZY-TOWN BANANA-PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  “Or not,” Jim added, scrolling through the thousands of exclamation points Toby typed.

  “Go help your friend,” Barbara said. “Besides, I’m sure the last thing a teenager wants to do is spend the night at home with his mother.”

  “Actually . . . ,” Jim started, still scrolling through exclamation points.

  But before Jim could finish the thought, Barbara kissed him on the cheek and rummaged through the refrigerator for leftovers. Jim’s cell buzzed with yet another Toby text:

  S.U.C.

  Jim immediately recognized that acronym. It was a secret code he and Toby used only in case of extreme emergencies. They came up with it after the time Jim wore a Grit-Shaka—a Troll relic that turned him into a carefree, albeit unbearably overconfident, jerk.

  Seriously un-crispy.

  “Why me?” Jim Lake Jr. asked of no one in particular.

  CHAPTER 2

  HERDING CATS

  “Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!” fretted Toby Domzalski as he shifted his weight from foot to foot in front of an abandoned warehouse.

  Moonlight reflected off its broken windows, and overgrown weeds stood almost as tall as Toby’s squat, antsy body. He nervously unwrapped a Nougat Nummie and stuffed it into his mouth just as Jim motored around the corner on his Vespa. Squeezing on the brakes, Jim brought his scooter to a halt in front of his best friend and stowed his helmet under the seat.

  “Im! Uhtookoo tho wong?” garbled Toby through nougat-gummed braces.

  “I got here as fast as I could!” Jim said, having learned long ago how to understand Toby when his mouth was full of candy, which was frequently.

  “Is this what you texted me about?” Jim asked Toby, scanning between the trees for danger. “Is the warehouse under attack already?”

  “Nope,” Toby said from behind Jim. “At least, not from the outside. It’s . . . well, you gotta come in quick so you can see for yourself. You won’t believe your—”

  “Duck!” Jim shouted, pushing Toby aside.

  Jim’s Amulet highlighted two small spheres that landed beside them and started spewing thick plumes of smoke. Using the smokescreen as cover, Steve Palchuk leaped out of the woods and said, “The jig’s up, losers! You’ve just been caught—”

  “By the Creepslayerz!” Eli Pepperjack finished as he jumped right next to Steve.

  Toby traded a confused look with Jim, then said, “Y’know, that would’ve been a lot cooler if your smoke bombs actually worked.”

  Steve and Eli looked down, seeing how the smoke never rose above Jim and Toby’s feet.

  “You mean, it didn’t seem like we appeared out of thin air?” Eli asked, adjusting his glasses.

  Steve kicked away the sputtering smoke bombs like they were two tiny soccer balls and yelled, “I told you these were lame!”

  “Maybe we can return them to the magic shop,” said Eli. “My mom saved the receipt!”

  Jim pointed at the unlikely duo and asked, “Are you two . . . hanging out now?”

  “None of your business, Lake!” Steve said. “But do you know what our business is?”

  “Making unnecessarily dramatic entrances?” guessed Toby.

  “No, Dumbzalski!” Steve snapped. “Our business is finding out what you and those . . . those Trolls have been up to all this time!”

  “You did promise to answer a few thousand questions, Jim,” Eli reminded him.

  “You’re right,” Jim said. “I owe you that. Okay, it all started when I got this Amulet—”

  He paused when the warehouse’s last intact window shattered above them. A little green Changeling flew out of the building and landed on his diapered rear next to Steve and Eli.

  “What’re you two glorks lookin’ at?” barked NotEnrique as he dusted himself off.

  “Maybe I should explain on the go,” Jim suggested as Toby opened the warehouse door.

  The stunned Creepslayerz followed Jim, Toby, and NotEnrique inside, only for their jaws to drop in surprise. Thousands upon thousands of Trolls filled the building, hefting large wooden crates and shouting at one another in Trollspeak. Some Trolls yanked cinderblocks out of the walls to build makeshift caves. Some chased hungrily after the stray cats that lived in the warehouse. And some merely hung from the rafters, chugging foamy, sloshing mugs of glug.

  “I see what you mean, Tobes,” said Jim, sidestepping a glug spill. “Seriously un-crispy.”

  “The Trolls’ve been like this ever since we brought them to the surface,” Toby explained.

  “Start talking before I start punching, Lake,” Steve said.

  “Fair enough,” Jim replied, now wading through the chaos around them. “I think you know the basics by now, but long story short: Trolls have lived in secret beneath us for thousands of years. They’re usually friendly—”

  “So long as you fleshbags keep yer distance,” NotEnrique said.

  “Although there are exceptions. Not to mention the seriously evil Trolls we’re on the run from—the Gumm-Gumms,” said Jim, his brow knitted in worry. “They’re led by this maniac, Gunmar, who wants nothing less than to destroy every human and rule the world.”

  “Oh, and to make an ocean of blood from Jim’s loved ones,” Toby chimed in helpfully.

  “Right, how could I forget?” Jim said with an eye roll. “Anyway, Gunmar used to be trapped in another dimension called the Darklands . . . until a few days ago. But now that he’s taken over the Trolls’ home, we’ve had to relocate them up here. Which we couldn’t have done without the . . . uh, Creepslayerz? That’s really what you’re calling yourselves?”

  “So all this time, when you’ve been sneaking off with Domzalski and Nuñez . . .”

  “We’ve been trying to stop Gunmar,” Toby said, dodging a Troll that was chasing a cat. “Just like all the other Trollhunters who came before Jim. Only, lately, we haven’t been doing so hot.”

  “Great Gronka Morka!” said a familiar voice, making Jim and Toby turn around.

  Blinky stepped out of the mass of stir-crazy Trolls, followed by his gigantic companion, AAARRRGGHH!!!

  “Hey, Blink. Hey, Wingman,” greeted Toby, fist-bumping all four of Blinky’s hands, then AAARRRGGHH!!!’s two massive paws.

  Eli tentatively touched the runes etched along AAARRRGGHH!!!’s powerful arms, and whispered, “Whoa . . . stone for skin. And it’s warm!”

  “Tickles,” giggled AAARRRGGHH
!!!

  “So, how’s your first day on the job, oh fearless Troll leader?” Toby asked Blinky.

  “Heavy is the head that wears the crown, Tobias,” answered the six-eyed Troll. “We’ve been sorting through all the crates of Troll artifacts RotGut could carry. But getting a warehouse full of Trolls to follow orders is like . . . what’s the human expression? Ah yes—herding cats!”

  “Cats?” asked a passing Troll, licking his lips in anticipation. “Where?”

  “Not now, Plagsnork!” griped Blinky before going back to massaging his temples. “It pains me to admit it, but I’ll never be the leader Vendel was. Or Rundle, and Kilfred before him.”

  “Ah, you’ll do great, Blink,” Jim said. “After all, you’ve been a great teacher to me.”

  Speaking of teachers, Jim had wanted to tell Blinky about his recent run-in with Strickler. But now Jim figured the news could wait, seeing his six-eyed friend so harried by his new duties. After all, the Trollhunter knew all too well what it felt like to be overwhelmed by responsibility.

  “Penny for your thoughts, Romeo,” came a new, somewhat tired, voice.

  Jim roused back to the present and saw Claire Nuñez leaning against her Shadow Staff like a crutch. She smiled, her eyes sparkling despite the dark, puffy bags under them.

  He hugged her and said, “So, what’d your parents think of your new hairdo?”

  Jim ran his fingers through a bone-white lock of Claire’s otherwise black hair. The streak had always been dyed blue . . . until she transported half of Trollmarket’s population to Arcadia with her Shadow Staff. The strain of such a feat had somehow bleached her hair from blue to white, although Jim thought Claire looked great in any color.

  “Haven’t shown them yet.” Claire yawned. “I’ve just been hanging out here at Troll-a-palooza until I get my strength back from that shadow-jump.”

  “But that was hours ago,” Jim said. “Maybe my mom should give you a checkup—”

  A booming crash interrupted Jim. Two distracted Trolls had collided and dropped the heavy crates they were carrying. The wooden boxes smashed to the ground, scattering Troll goods across the warehouse floor—as well as a nest of stowaway Gnomes. The sight of their pointy red hats whipped the Trolls into a brand-new frenzy, causing them overturn more crates and demolish more of the warehouse. When a couple of the Gnomes skittered under Steve’s shirt, he shrieked, “Ew! Ew! Ew! Get ’em off, Eli!”

  Eli tried to catch the squirrely critters—only to grab their hats, exposing huge horns underneath. NotEnrique roared with more laughter, while Jim and Team Trollhunters attempted to corral the Gnomes and quell the panic spreading across the warehouse.

  I just wanted dinner with Mom, thought Jim as he pried an addled Gnome from his scalp and looked out at the pandemonium raging around him.

  In the confusion, the Creepslayerz backed into a teetering stack of RotGut’s crates and accidentally toppled them. An oddly shaped Troll contraption tumbled out of one of the boxes and smashed against the concrete floor.

  “A Kairosect!” Jim said, recognizing the damaged device. “Guys, we can use this to pause time and put these pointy little Gnome genies back in their bottle!”

  “A splendid strategy, Master Jim!” hollered Blinky, holding four wriggling Gnomes in each of his hands. “Although its effects last only forty-three minutes and nine seconds—and I seriously question whether that’s long enough to put an end to this magnitude of madness!”

  The Trollhunter bent over to retrieve the Kairosect. But before he could touch it, an arc of green electricity jumped out of its cracked casing. Jim recoiled his hand as more and more strange energy currents sparked from the Kairosect’s exposed inner workings.

  “Um, I don’t think it’s supposed to do that,” Toby said.

  Jim pushed Steve and Eli clear of the expanding energy’s radius and said, “We need to contain this, this—whatever it is—before it spreads to the rest of the warehouse!”

  “One shadow portal, coming up!” Claire replied as she raised her staff and generated a black hole above the malfunctioning mechanism.

  But the Kairosect’s seeping energies mingled unpredictably with the Shadow Staff’s magic, causing the portal to enlarge and spread around Team Trollhunters. The Trolls in the warehouse took cover behind more clusters of crates, but Jim stood fast. Over the roar of the wind rushing into the vacuum, he shouted, “Claire! Can you shut it down?”

  “I’m trying!” Claire said through gritted teeth. “But the Shadow Staff isn’t responding!”

  “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—Great Gronka Morka!” cried Blinky as the cyclonic portal swept him into the air.

  “Wingman!” AAARRRGGHH!!! called after Toby as they, too, disappeared into the dark tornado, followed by Claire.

  I guess dinner with Mom’s gonna have to wait a bit longer, thought Jim before he leaped headfirst into the same black vortex that consumed his friends.

  CHAPTER 3

  CLONK-DONK

  Jim felt his body land on supple grass instead of the hard cement he was expecting. Opening one eye and then the other, he saw that the warehouse and the disgruntled Trolls within it had disappeared—only to be replaced by unspoiled green hills as far as the eye could see.

  “I have a feeling I’m not in Arcadia anymore,” Jim said, his breath visible in the night air.

  “Or North America, for that matter,” replied Blinky from a nearby treetop, pulling twigs from his hair. “By my estimation, we’ve arrived, most uncomfortably, in the moors of England.”

  “England?” Jim marveled. “Blink, how can you be sure?”

  “Blinky from here,” AAARRRGGHH!!! said as he appeared over the next hill, carrying Toby and Claire on his back. “Well, under it.”

  The gentle giant lowered Toby and Claire, and they both rushed over to Jim. Everyone seemed to be unhurt for the most part, although Claire looked somewhat pale.

  “Correct,” said Blinky as he climbed down the tree. “I grew up around these parts ages ago, in the original Trollmarket beneath the fabled hill of Arthurian legend, Glastonbury Tor.”

  “But I’ve never been to England,” Claire said with a queasy shudder. “I have no emotional connection to this place. So how’d my Shadow Staff teleport us here?”

  “Hmm, a valid query,” Blinky conceded.

  “Well, let’s answer it after we’ve gotten back home,” Claire said, extending her Shadow Staff once more. “Right now, I could go for a hot bath and a couple of aspirin.”

  Focusing her mind on the staff, she mentally commanded it to open a new portal . . . but nothing happened. Claire tried again, but still nothing.

  “Maybe you’re just tired,” said Jim, putting a consoling arm around her. “You’re clearly fighting off some kind of bug and reeling from two massive shadow-jumps in a row.”

  “Then perhaps our best course of action is to reconnoiter,” Blinky said.

  “Raccoon-oyster?” AAARRRGGHH!!! said.

  “Reconnoiter,” Blinky corrected. “A human word that means: to search, scout, or survey one’s surroundings.”

  “Ah,” AAARRRGGHH!!! grumbled in understanding. “A look-see.”

  Toby pulled out his cell phone and said, “No problemo. Allow me to simply open my handy-dandy ride-sharing app and hail us a . . .”

  Toby’s cheerful voice trailed off as he noticed that his cell had no signal. Claire and Jim checked their phones and similarly found no signal bars. Their clocks and GPS-enabled maps weren’t functioning either. Jim scratched his head and said, “We get reception deep inside of Gatto’s gut, but not out here in the open?”

  • • •

  The quintet trudged along the moors. To Jim, walking in the fields of heather felt like walking in a dream. Maybe it was because Claire and his best friends were beside him. Maybe it was because he’d never been this far from home before. Or maybe it was because of all the . . .

  “Smoke,” AAARRRGGHH!!! said, sniffing the air.

&
nbsp; Team Trollhunters crested the next hill, only to stop short in their tracks. Below them sat a small, ramshackle village comprised of a few mud huts surrounded by a wooden guard wall. They saw no cars, for there were no roads, nor did there appear to be any power lines. The only signs of life came from the few people in rags who pushed wheelbarrows along the village’s rutted pathways.

  “Yeesh,” Toby said. “It looks like the past few centuries completely skipped over this place!”

  “In point of fact, Tobias, I fear it is we who have skipped a few centuries!” said Blinky.

  They all traded surprised looks before Jim said, “Blinky, are you telling us that Claire’s portal not only sent us halfway around the world—but also clonk-donked us into the past?”

  “Indeed, Master Jim, that is the only scenario that makes sense to me at this moment,” Blinky uttered gravely. “Except for the ‘clonk-donk’ part. I have no idea what that means.”

  “It’s this weird sound effect they make on that TV show we told you about, Mistrial & Error,” Claire explained. “Every time the scene changes, the audience hears a—”

  “Clonk-donk,” AAARRRGGHH!!! filled in.

  “Sorry I asked,” Blinky muttered. “But yes, for all intents and purposes, it would appear that the Shadow Staff’s arcane magic somehow reacted—quite adversely—with the ruptured Kairosect to, er, clonk-donk us backward through time! Metaphysically speaking, of course.”

  Jim looked back at the village and found the source of the smoke: a fire pit upon which a cauldron of stew bubbled. The tantalizing smell made him think of dinner which, in turn, made Jim think of his mom alone at home, probably eating a microwave burrito for dinner. Pushing the sad image from his mind, he said, “I know we’re all probably wondering how we’re gonna get back. But first things first, we need to find food, warmth, and shelter for Blink and AAARRRGGHH!!! before the sun comes up.”

  “A most prudent course of action,” agreed Blinky as he, AAARRRGGHH!!!, Toby, and Claire followed Jim down the hill and toward the village.