by Onk Beakman
“Won’t that be awfully uncomfortable, Lord—?”
“SILENCE!” Kaos held out his hand. “Give me the ancient mystical words NOW!”
“The ancient mystical what?” asked Glumshanks, exchanging a confused look with Bloodshot.
“The ancient mystical words that will allow us to travel back to the time of the Nightmare King. The ancient mystical words I gave you for safekeeping. The ancient mystical words that you pledged your life to protect, no matter what.”
“Oh, those,” Glumshanks said, pulling a scrappy piece of parchment from his tattered robes. “Sorry, I thought you meant some other ancient mystical words.”
Kaos snatched the paper from the Troll, shooting him his scariest glare. Clearing his throat, the Portal Master held the coin of King Nefarion aloft and began to read aloud.
“One: Wash Lord Kaos’s socks.
“Two: Wash Lord Kaos’s feet.
“Three: Throw away the cloths I used to wash Lord Kaos’s feet.
“Four: Polish Lord Kaos’s head . . .”
The Skylanders looked at one another. “They don’t sound like ancient mystical words to me,” said Grim Creeper.
Kaos seemed to agree. “Glumshanks, what is this?” he shrieked.
The Troll looked sheepish and turned the parchment over in Kaos’s hand. “Sorry, Lord Kaos, I must have written my to-do list on the other side. Here.”
“When I am all-powerful, remind me to banish you to the Outlands, FOOL!” screamed Kaos.
“Yes, Lord Kaos,” replied Glumshanks wearily. “I’ll add it to my list.”
Kaos returned his attention to the parchment, held the coin back up, and began to read once again:
“Emit fo sdniw,
kcab em ekat,
tsap eht ot,
pals a teg ll’uoy ro!”
When nothing happened, Kaos screamed, “These mystical words don’t work.”
“You could try reading the letters backward, Lord Kaos,” Glumshanks suggested.
“I knew that, you FOOL!” Kaos snapped. He began to read the letters backward, then added one final not-so-ancient mystical word: “NOW!”
A rift in the very fabric of time and space appeared behind the Portal Master. Impossible colors twisted inside the hole in the air: reddish-black greens, purplish-orange whites, and sky-bluish pinks. As the Skylanders gaped, Kaos and his butler were sucked through the rift, screaming their heads off, before the hole closed again.
Left alone, Bloodshot blinked in disbelief. “Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” he muttered to himself.
The surface of the Portal returned to normal.
“Where did they go?” asked Slam Bam.
“Isn’t it obvious?” replied Eruptor. “Into the past. Emperor Kaos is going to try to change history.”
“All hail his terrible name,” muttered Grim Creeper, before slapping a black-gloved hand across his own mouth. “What did I just say?”
“You can’t help it,” Master Eon said, looking paler than ever. “Emperor Kaos has already conquered the past.”
“All hail his terrible name,” the three Skylanders said in unison before they could stop themselves. They, too, were being affected by the changes to history.
“He must have gotten fed up with trying to find the segments of the Mask of Power in the present,” Eruptor said.
Eon nodded. “He has gone back to take the Mask from King Nefar-whatsit himself.”
Outside the Citadel, the light began to dim, gray clouds flooding across the sky.
“He’s already won?” asked Slam Bam.
“Never!” said Master Eon. “Grim Creeper, do you still have the coin bearing Emperor Kaos’s face?”
“I do,” said the reaper, producing the coin and biting his lip so he wouldn’t be forced to add all hail his terrible name.
“Can you perform the same spell?” asked Eruptor.
“I can,” admitted Master Eon. “But powerful words such as these can only be used once by a Portal Master. We can send folk back in time and return them to the present, but that is it.”
“So we only have one chance,” realized Slam Bam.
“Then we’d better make it count,” said Grim Creeper, brandishing his scythe defiantly.
“I’ll try to send you back to a point in time before whatshisname steals the Mask of Power,” Master Eon explained, turning the coin over in his fingers. “You must stop him from defeating the Nightmare King and creating this future.”
“What are we waiting for?” urged Eruptor. “Let’s go!”
A worrying thought occurred to Slam Bam. “But, Eruptor, if you head back into the past you’ll end up trapped in that ice. We know. We’ve seen it.”
Eruptor avoided his friend’s worried gaze. “We have to stop Emperor Kaos—”
“All hail his terrible name!” cut in Slam Bam.
“—whatever it takes!” the lava monster concluded. “Let’s put history right!”
He looked up at Master Eon, who smiled at the brave Fire Skylander.
“I knew I could depend on you,” the Portal Master said, before raising the coin into the air and reciting the time-travel spell they had heard Kaos say:
“Winds of time
take me back
to the past,
or you’ll get a slap!”
Behind them, the gateway to the past opened, threatening to drag the Skylanders off their feet.
Eruptor didn’t wait. He was the first one to jump through the rift, leaping toward his own destiny.
Chapter Six
The Forest of Fire
“Traveling through a Portal of Power is like the best roller-coaster ride ever. Fun, but a little scary the first time you do it.
Traveling through time turned out to be the complete opposite of fun. Eruptor felt as if he was first being turned inside out and then outside in, before the entire process repeated all over again.
It was like falling down a never-ending tunnel. Or should that be falling up a never-ending tunnel? Eruptor found it hard to tell, especially with so many images of Skylands’ history flashing past his eyes. He saw the SWAP Force defending Mount Cloudbreak, followed by the Giants defeating the Arkeyan King. Then there were glimpses of events he knew nothing about. The shriek of a four-headed beast and the blast of a huge explosion. Master Eon’s Citadel lying in ruins. The Skylanders flying through space toward a distant blue-and-green planet. No, it had to be his mind playing tricks on him. He couldn’t really be seeing the past and the future mixing together . . . could he?
He was spinning faster now, around and around and around. His body felt like it was stretching, like it was a pack of hot dogs caught in a tug of war between two Chompies. He felt as if his body was about to snap in two.
“Can’t . . . take . . . much . . . more . . . of . . . this!” he moaned, his voice distorting in the time tunnel.
Suddenly he saw a light up ahead, burning brighter than a million suns. Eruptor tried to turn away from it, but he was being pulled closer and closer and closer, and then . . .
WHUMPH!
Eruptor hit the ground, hard. He didn’t mind. In fact, he laughed—a deep, booming belly laugh that made his sides ache. He rolled on to his back and felt warm air on his skin.
He’d made it through the time tunnel. He was alive. But where was he? Eruptor sat up and looked around. A ring of tall, green trees encircled a clearing of lush grass. Insects chirped loudly and birds sung high in the air.
WHUMPH!
Another body hit the ground behind him. Eruptor turned to see Grim Creeper sitting on his own head, his translucent legs pinwheeling in the air.
Another crash to their right delivered Slam Bam, all four of his arms tangled up in a knot of limbs.
“Whoa,” groaned the yeti. “Th
at’s the last time I’ll complain about Flynn’s bumpy rides.” Grim Creeper flipped over onto his feet. “Is this the past?” the reaper asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Eruptor.
“But this is a forest,” said Slam Bam, untangling his arms. “I thought King Nefarion’s castle was in the Frozen Seas?” A smile spread over the yeti’s face. “Hey, I remembered the Nightmare King’s name!”
Eruptor tried something for himself. “Kaos,” he said. “Kaos, Kaos, Kaos, Kaos!” Now the lava monster was grinning, too. “I don’t have to call him Emperor Kaos!”
“You don’t have to hail his terrible name, either,” pointed out Grim Creeper.
“Master Eon did it!” Slam Bam realized. “Kaos obviously hasn’t got his grubby little mitts on the Mask of Power yet! We still have time to save the future!”
Eruptor rubbed his temples. “If you say so. All of this time traveling is making my brain hurt.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Slam Bam said, fanning himself with three of his hands. “This place is sweltering. You must love it.”
“I don’t know,” Eruptor grumbled. “It could be a little hotter.” Behind him, a tree burst into flames. “Me and my big mouth.”
“Eruptor!” exclaimed Slam Bam. “Did you do that?”
“No,” insisted the lava monster. Fire broke out in the branches of two more trees around the clearing. Then three. Then four! Soon, every single tree was ablaze.
“Well, someone’s turning up the heat!” yelled Grim Creeper. Faces were forming in the flickering flames. Angry-looking faces.
“I think it’s the trees themselves,” Eruptor realized. “They’re alive.”
“THIS IS THE FOREST OF FIRE!” boomed the first tree that had caught alight. “YOU ARE ENEMIES OF THE NIGHTMARE KING!”
“Actually,” said Slam Bam, “we’re kind of here to help him. He’s in danger from an evil Portal Master from the future. We’ve come back to stop him!”
“LIAR!” screamed the trees as one.
“I gotta admit, I’m finding it hard to believe myself,” admitted Eruptor, but the trees weren’t listening. They were pulling back their branches as if they were about to throw something at the Skylanders. Which is exactly what they did.
“Fireballs!” warned Eruptor as the first one fizzed toward the Skylanders. “Defend yourselves!”
“No kidding,” Slam Bam shouted back, surrounding them with a wall of ice—not that the barrier would last long.
“Time to cut and run,” yelled Grim Creeper, vaulting over a rapidly thawing ice block. He raced across the clearing, waving his scythe above his head.
Eruptor wasn’t about to let his spooky friend put himself in danger on his own. He opened his mouth, swallowing an incoming fireball.
“Mmmmm,” he said, licking his lips. “Hot and spicy! Just how I like it!”
The lava monster leaped around, gobbling up every fireball the trees threw the Skylanders’ way. Soon he was full to bursting. Meanwhile, Grim Creeper was struggling to get near the trees without being beaten back by their burning branches. Even the ghost’s black tunic was smoldering from the heat.
Slam Bam wasn’t doing much better. His ice defenses were melting faster than he could build them.
“Eruptor!” he shouted. “Can’t you fight fire with fire?”
But the lava monster just looked sick. “I ate too much,” he said, barfing up a pool of magma that nearly fried Grim Creeper’s feet. “Sorry!”
The reaper hardly even noticed. He was too busy trying to avoid the red-hot roots that were breaking out of the ground and rearing up like snakes. The flaming trees were on the move, and there was nowhere to run.
“GET THEM!” the trees shouted as they closed in on the Skylanders.
Slam Bam made some icy boxing gloves to protect his fists as he tried to smash the advancing plants, while Eruptor had recovered enough to spit some magma balls left, right, and center. But it wasn’t helping. The trees simply batted the magma balls right back where they came from. Even Grim Creeper became entangled in the burning roots, unable to reach his scythe, let alone swing it.
It was hopeless. The Skylanders were outnumbered and outflanked.
They were going to meet a fiery end thousands of years before they’d even been born!
Chapter Seven
The Last of the Portal Masters
“This is getting too hot to handle!” yelled Slam Bam as a fiery branch whacked him on the back, singeing his fur.
“Even for me!” admitted Eruptor, who was now wrestling with a flaming tree. There was only one choice left. He could erupt into a giant lake of lava, but then he’d scald his friends as much as the trees—and the burning wood warriors might even enjoy it!
This couldn’t be how it ended. Not here, not now, in the dim and distant past. What would happen to Master Eon in the future if they failed? What would happen to Skylands? The thought of Kaos winning was too much to bear. Eruptor could almost hear the evil Portal Master cackling in his head.
The heat was intense. Flames raged in from every angle. Behind Eruptor, Slam Bam was shouting. In front, Grim Creeper was disappearing underneath a mass of glowing roots.
Then Eruptor realized it wasn’t the roots that were glowing—it was the air around the reaper. Eruptor’s eyes widened. It was a Portal of Power. Grim Creeper was being transported out of danger.
Eruptor twisted and saw Slam Bam dissolve in another flash of light. One moment the yeti was there, the next he was gone. Where were they going? Was Master Eon dragging them back to the future already?
And what about him?
Eruptor’s question was answered with a bump when he landed on the floor of a gloomy cave. Torches burned weakly on the rocky walls, sending shadows flickering around the cavern.
He wasn’t alone. Slam Bam and Grim Creeper rushed over to see if he was all right. Eruptor brushed off their concern with a question of his own.
“Where are we?” he asked. “This isn’t Master Eon’s citadel.”
Before his friends could answer, a voice echoed around the cave.
“Who is Master Eon? And who are you?”
Eruptor pushed himself to his feet. “Great! Just what we need—a spooky and mysterious voice!”
“You will answer the question!” the voice insisted.
“Which one?” shrugged Slam Bam.
“Um,” said the voice, suddenly not quite as impressive as before. “The first one!”
“Eon is our Portal Master,” Grim Creeper offered, raising his scythe just in case the spooky and mysterious voice was attached to an equally spooky and mysterious body.
“Impossible,” it shouted back. “The Portal Masters are no more! And who do you claim to be?”
“We claim to be what we are!” said Eruptor. “Skylanders—and proud of it!”
“Now I know you are lying,” the voice screamed. “The Skylanders have been banished. They, too, are gone!”
“Well, your Skylanders may have scrammed, but not us!” said Slam Bam. “We’re from the future!”
“The future?” said a smaller voice behind them. The Skylanders whirled around to see a tiny hunched figure leaning on a rickety staff. It was a particularly ancient-looking Mabu, wearing a huge pair of glasses.
“Where did you come from?” Eruptor asked, secretly thanking his lucky stars that he hadn’t barfed lava all over the Mabu’s sandaled feet.
“I was here the whole time,” the Mabu replied, his voice as dry as old leaves. “I just made myself invisible.”
“You can do that?” asked Slam Bam.
The Mabu twitched his nose and vanished to prove it. A moment later he reappeared.
“And the voice?” asked Grim Creeper.
“ALSO ME!” boomed the Mabu, magically bouncing his words
off the moss-covered rocks.
“Nice!” the reaper admitted.
“Thanks,” said the Mabu, trying a weak smile. “I still know a few tricks, even at my age.”
“Are you a wizard?” Eruptor asked.
The Mabu drew himself up to his full height, which, to be honest, wasn’t very tall. “No, lava monster. My name is Wizbit. I am a Portal Master.”
Slam Bam frowned. “But you said . . .”
“I’m the last Portal Master. My brothers and sisters have all fled Skylands. I alone remained to defeat the Nightmare King.” Wizbit’s furry face crumpled in sorrow. “I failed!”
“Well, don’t be hard on yourself, small fry,” Eruptor said kindly.
“Yeah,” agreed Slam Bam. “We hear he’s a pretty bogus dude!”
“Then you heard right,” Wizbit said. “He defeated the Skylanders—our Skylanders—and enslaved every race on Skylands. Mabu. Gillmen. Molekin. Kangarats. Even dragons. None can stand against him. Not even you—even if you wanted to!”
“Of course we want to,” insisted Grim Creeper. “That’s why we’ve been sent back here.”
“That’s what he said you’d say,” Wizbit said sadly.
“Who?” asked Eruptor.
“Me!” announced a new voice from the other side of the cave.
Before the Skylanders could turn, Wizbit twitched his nose. “I’m sorry,” he said as magical golden ropes appeared around the champions, binding them together.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Slam Bam asked as he struggled against the bonds. Eruptor was also trying to free himself, but he felt so weak all of a sudden. It was almost as if his fire was going out. Grim Creeper’s ghostly spirit turned feeble inside his armor.
“He’s doing what I asked him to, FOOLS!” said the owner of the voice, stepping out of the shadows.
“Kaos!” Eruptor spat.
“The very same,” Kaos gloated, turning his attention to the wrinkled Mabu. “You have done well, my friend.”
“Your friend?” Slam Bam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Wizbit, do you know who this is?”
