by Onk Beakman
“Shut yer mouth, ye lily-livered loon,” warned Bonebeard. “Remember what the cap’n said. Loose lips sink schooners, and all that.”
Gill was intrigued. “What crabs?”
“Chased ole Gut-Rot off the ship, they did,” the tattooed pirate said and was rewarded with a clout around the head from Bonebeard. “Oww!”
Behind Gill, Wham-Shell stifled a snigger at the thought of a chef being given his just desert by marauding crabs.
“Then there was that eel I found tying itself in knots on the dock,” added the scrawny pirate. “Ain’t that right, Squid-Ink?”
“Yer not wrong, Runtface,” agreed the tattooed pirate, rubbing his sore head. “And don’t forget the starfish you were going to eat for yer supper last night.”
“As if I could,” said Runtface sadly. “Jumped right off me plate and did a tap dance up and down the bar.”
“It did what?” Gill asked. Now he’d heard everything.
“What did I tell yer?” Runtface fixed the Gillman with a doom-laden glare. “The place is cursed, I tells yer. Cursed.”
“What’s all this nonsense I hears?” The voice boomed over the harbor, deep and gruff. The throng of pirates parted to reveal Captain Grimslobber striding toward the Skylanders on his two wooden legs. “Runtface, ye flea-bitten swab, is I going to have to keelhaul ye again? Or does ye want to walk the plank?”
“N-no, Cap’n,” Runtface stammered, quaking in his boots, “Sorry, Cap’n. I was just saying, Cap’n—”
“I knows what ye were saying,” growled Grimslobber as he came to a halt in front of Gill. “Utter nonsense, the lot of it. I told yer before, there be no curse.” His cruel eyes rested upon Gill and he grinned a golden grin. “Now, what do we have here? I thought I smelled something fishy.”
Beside Gill, Wham-Shell slapped his Malacostracan Mace into an armored palm. “I’d show some respect if I were you.”
“Wham-Shell’s right,” Zap agreed, electricity arcing across his gold harness in warning. “That was a shocking thing to say.”
Gill raced a webbed hand to calm his friends. Grimslobber was just trying to pick a fight. They all needed to keep their tempers in check and remember why they were here.
“The captain’s just having a little joke,” the Gillman said, his eyes falling on the satchel Grimslobber was wearing across his impressive chest. Gill could see that there was something bulky tucked inside, wrapped in a dirty old rag. A strange thing for a seadog so concerned about his appearance to carry. “He meant no harm.”
“No harm at all,” jeered Grimslobber, tucking the satchel behind his back. Had he spotted Gill looking at it? “I’m sorry if my crew have been boring you with their shaggy-dog stories. They lets their imaginations run away sometimes.”
“Must have been all the excitement with the Cloud Kraken,” said Gill, not believing a word of it.
“Aye, that it be,” nodded Grimslobber, the sunlight glinting off his jewelry. “Strange things happen at sea.”
“And getting stranger by the minute,” added Squid-Ink, causing Bonebeard to roll his eyes in dismay. “Perhaps we should give up diving for treasure until—”
The tattooed pirate didn’t finish the sentence. He was too busy recovering from another clout around the lugholes from Bonebeard. “You heard the cap’n, you scurvy sop,” the dog-faced pirate growled. “Shut yer cake hole.”
But it was too late. The cat was well and truly out of the bag.
“Treasure?” asked Zap. “What treasure is that?”
Gill groaned. The water dragon was always too curious for his own good. Zap had a nose for trouble. Well, a snout at least.
Grimslobber’s smile faded and, quick as a flash, he’d drawn both of his cutlasses. “None of yer business, Skylander.”
The other pirates didn’t need prompting. Within seconds every sword, knife, and cannon on the quayside was pointing at the three Skylanders.
“Now, let’s not be so hasty,” said Gill, priming his water cannon just in case. “We don’t want any trouble. Just let us go and we’ll let you get back to your treasure, no questions asked.”
The pirates paused, considered this for a second, and then attacked anyway.
Chapter Seven
Pirate Fight
The Skylanders were outnumbered four to one. With a deafening cheer, the pirates charged, cutlasses ready to chop and cannons ready to fire. The first shot came from Squid-Ink, who let loose with his mollusk mortar gun, blasting a barrage of blowfish straight at the Skylanders. Luckily Wham-Shell was ready for action. Swinging his massive mace like a bat, he whacked the exploding fish back toward the pirates. Squid-Ink’s googly eyes grew even wider as a wet blowfish hit him in the chest and detonated, sending him barreling backward into his fellow buccaneers.
It was exactly the distraction the Skylanders needed. Catching Zap’s eye, Gill spun on his webbed feet, firing his water cannon in an arc, soaking every pirate in turn. Then it was Zap’s turn. The water dragon opened his mouth and spat out a bolt of crackling electricity. Long ago, Zap had been raised by a family of electric eels, and the first lesson his adopted mother had taught him was that water and electricity don’t mix. Zap’s electricity sparked and fizzed as it jumped from one sodden pirate to another. The pirates shook and stammered, yellow sparks dancing along cutlass blades, golden teeth chattering in tentacled mouths, and electrified dog hair standing on end.
“Quick!” Gill yelled, darting through a gap in the wall of shocked scalawags. “Make for the water.”
Grimslobber lunged at Wham-Shell as the crustacean charged past, his cutlasses narrowly missing the Skylander’s crusty shell. As he dashed after his friends, Zap managed to deliver an extra static charge to the pirate captain’s gold belt. Grimslobber yelped as his trousers fell down around his ankles, revealing a pair of skull-and-crossbones underpants. The captain stumbled and landed face-first in a sizzling puddle of Zap’s Sea Slime. “That’s what you get for calling Gill names,” Zap shouted over his shoulder, before plunging beneath the waves.
On the quayside, Grimslobber pushed himself up and shook a fist after the Skylanders. “You’ll walk me plank for this, ye scurvy wretches,” he snarled as his flock of slightly singed parrots settled back onto his broad shoulders. “Grimslobber shall ‘ave ‘is revenge!”
Some distance from the dock, Gill’s head broke the surface. He could see the pirate crew gathering their dropped weapons, still shaking from the effects of Zap’s charge. Beside him, the water dragon and Wham-Shell popped up from beneath the waves, just in time to see a Portal appear in midair. Spyro flew out of the ball of bright light, his wings flapping to keep him hovering above the water.
“Gill, are you okay?” Spyro asked, looking down at his friend. “Master Eon said you were having pirate problems.”
“Yeah, they were pretty re-volt-ing,” joked Zap.
“But we soon had them shell-shocked,” rumbled Wham-Shell.
“The Warrior Librarians are in a pretty bad way though,” pointed out Gill. “Their armor is completely waterlogged.”
“Already taken care of,” Spyro said, nodding at the quayside.
On the dock, lights flared. Eon was transporting the survivors of the shipwreck back to the Eternal Archive.
“So what next?” Zap asked. “We still have no idea where the Mask segment is.”
“No,” agreed Gill, “but I know someone who may be able to help. Fancy a little dip, Spyro?”
“I’ll stick to the skies, thanks,” the purple dragon said. “But you better get going – look.”
Gill followed Spyro’s gaze. A single cloud had appeared on the horizon. A particularly evil-looking cloud.
“Kaos!” Zap snarled. “But how did that little twerp know to look for the segment here?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Spyro said, another Portal appearing beside him. “We can’t let Kaos find the fragment first.”
Gill flashed Spyro a swift salute. “We’re on
the case. Come on, fellas, let’s shake those tail fins.”
“But where are we going?” Wham-Shell asked, still none the wiser.
“To visit an old friend,” Gill said, before plunging beneath the waves. Wham-Shell shrugged and followed suit, while Zap leaped out of the water, pulled off a perfect triple somersault, and dived below the surface.
“Catch you later!” the water dragon yelled before disappearing.
Left on his own, Spyro looked from the approaching cloud to the pirate ship on the dock.
“I just hope no one catches you, Zap,” he muttered to himself, flying back into the Portal.
Chapter Eight
The Kingdom of the Merpeople
It felt good to be back in the water. It had been ages since Gill had enjoyed a deep-sea dive. At first, he’d been worried that they’d run into the Cloud Kraken again, but the murderous sea monster was nowhere to be seen. That still troubled him. What had turned such a meek creature into a raging beast? He’d never seen anything like it. Was it linked somehow to the segment of the Mask? It seemed too much of a coincidence if it wasn’t.
Zap swept down beside Gill, air bubbles streaming from the canisters he wore on his back. Gill smiled. If you thought Zap was speedy on land, seeing him underwater was something else. He swam like greased lightning.
“So,” Zap asked, speaking bubble-language, the only way to speak beneath the waves, “where are we heading?”
“You’ll see,” Gill replied, leading them through a deep gully in the seabed. Moving as one, the three Skylanders shot over a family of waving anemones and raced toward a cliff. They were almost there. Beyond the cliff, Gill could already make out a soft glow and felt a tingle of anticipation flicker over his fins. He was so excited he had tadpoles in his stomach.
Gill was pleased to see Zap’s mouth drop as soon as they cleared the cliff. For once the fast-talking dragon was lost for words. Gill couldn’t blame him. Below them, a majestic palace rose up from the seabed, luminescent coral towers stretching as far as the eye could see. A flag bearing a regal coat of arms flapped from the tallest turret—a shell-encrusted shield flanked by two imposing sea horses.
“Whoa, what is this place?” whispered a wide-eyed Zap.
“The Kingdom of the Merpeople,” Gill replied proudly. “The oldest underwater race in all of Skylands—and my friends. If anyone knows the location of the segment it’ll be them. They’ve swum these waters for thousands of years.”
They swam on in silence, sweeping down seaweed-lined avenues toward a pair of huge barnacled gates. It was as beautiful as Gill remembered, but something didn’t seem right. Guards should have appeared above the gates by now, ready to ask them their business—but there was no one there.
“Is no one home?” asked Zap as they reached the gates.
Wham-Shell swam forward and rapped three times on the heavy doors. The sound reverberated through the water until a head finally popped over the gatehouse’s rampart.
“Who goes there?” the solitary guard asked.
Gill swam up so he could be seen.
“It’s me, Gill Grunt.”
“What do you want?”
Gill’s frown deepened. Usually his name was enough to open the gates.
“Erm, I’m here to see King Scalebeard, ruler of this kingdom.”
“Whatever you’re selling, we’re not interested. Sling your hook!”
Zap floated up to join the Gillman.
“Thought you were friends with these guys.”
“So did I,” Gill admitted, utterly confused. He turned back to the guard. “You don’t understand. We’re here on Skylander business.”
“Oh, Skylander business,” the guard said. “That makes all the difference.”
“It does?” Gill said hopefully.
“No,” replied the guard. “Not in the slightest. Now stop carping and get lost.”
And with that the guard disappeared back over the ramparts.
“I don’t believe it,” said Gill, his heart sinking. “I’ve never been denied entrance before.”
“Hey, chill out.” Zap gave Gill a friendly nudge in the wetsuit. “We’re underwater. We can just swim over the battlements.”
“No we can’t,” Gill explained. “The kingdom is defended by a magic shield. The only way in is through the gates.”
“Then I suggest we knock a little louder,” Wham-Shell shouted from below. Gill looked down. The crustacean was whirling his mace around and around, picking up speed as he prepared to let it go. The Gillman gaped as he realized what Wham-Shell was planning to do. As the son of an underwater king himself, the pumped-up crab wasn’t used to being refused anything. By now both Wham-Shell and the mace were nothing more than a red blur, spinning so fast that the water churned around them. Then, with a grunt of effort, Wham-Shell let go of its handle and the mace shot toward the gates. With an earsplitting crunch, the gates were ripped from their hinges and sent spiraling back into the castle’s courtyard.
“Now they’ll let us in,” boomed Wham-Shell as his mace returned magically to his open hand.
“It might not be that easy,” advised Gill, slotting a Quadent Harpoon into his water cannon. This wasn’t how he’d imagined events unfolding. “King Scalebeard’s guards will already be rushing to stop us.”
Zap didn’t look convinced, although he’d charged up his golden harness just in case.
“Unless they’re really small, I don’t see anyone rushing anywhere. Any chance the king’s guards are the size of plankton?”
Zap was right. The courtyard beyond the gatehouse looked absolutely deserted. No guards. No merpeople. No anyone.
“Let’s go,” yelled Zap, streaking forward, electricity crackling in his wake. Gill watched Wham-Shell follow the dragon in confusion. Where was everyone? Clutching his water cannon, Gill slipped through the gates. Usually thousands of mer-knights would have been charging toward them by now, brandishing supersharp swords and spears. Instead, all that greeted them was a startled school of minnows that scattered as he swam by.
“Ow!”
A shell bounced off Gill’s head. He turned to see the lone guard throwing shells after them. Gill raised his cannon, but let it drop immediately. The guard was no more than a merchild, dressed in armor that was far too large for him.
As Gill swam out of range, he felt a chill spread through his guts. Why were children defending the city’s walls? Something was very wrong here.
Chapter Nine
King Scalebeard
The streets of the kingdom were as deserted as the main courtyard. The three Skylanders swam past overturned market stalls, abandoned houses, and overgrown seaweed on their way to the palace. Usually the royal gardens were pristine, Gill thought, before correcting himself—usually the royal gardens were crowded.
Finally, they spotted someone, an elderly merman snoozing on a hammock slung between two coral lampposts.
“Wakey, wakey,” called Zap, but the old-timer did not stir. He just kept on slumbering, gulping in mouthfuls of water with each snore. Even a short, sharp shock from Zap’s electric breath didn’t wake the guy. He just muttered something and then rolled over in his hammock.
“What did he say?” asked Wham-Shell.
“I think he asked why I couldn’t leave him alone like everyone else . . .”
“Who else?” asked Gill. “There’s no one here.”
“You said it,” said Zap. “I’ve no idea why you thought coming here would help us find the fragment. The place is a ghost town.”
“At least someone’s at home,” said Wham-Shell, pointing up at the tower that loomed over them. “Unless they left a light on.”
Gill looked up. Sure enough, a solitary light was burning in a stained glass window high above.
“That’s the throne room,” Gill said excitedly. “King Scalebeard must still be here.” He hurried toward the tower’s door. “Come on. He’ll be able to tell us what’s been happening.”
“I’ve
no idea what’s been happening!” said King Scalebeard. The king looked even older and frailer than the last time Gill had seen him. His white beard, once bushy and full, was all scraggly, and his eyes were sunken and red-rimmed. It looked like the king hadn’t slept in weeks. His children looked no better. Prince Aquan, the next in line to the throne, sat to the king’s right, while the beautiful Princess Finella sat to his left. Both looked as worried as their father.
At least here in the throne room there were some mer-knights, although Gill had expected at least three dozen rather than just, well, three.
“But where is everyone?” Gill asked. The king frowned and lifted a giant, twisty shell to his ear. Scalebeard was slightly hard of hearing.
“Beg pardon?” the king asked.
“I said, where is everyone?” Gill shouted into the ear trumpet.
“Eh?”
“WHERE IS EVERYONE?” Gill bellowed.
“Okay, okay, there’s no need to shout,” the King complained. “I wish I knew. I turned my back for a second and half the kingdom swam away.”
“Where have they gone?” asked Zap.
“Say again, sonny?”
“Where. Have. They. Gone?” the sea dragon repeated, through gritted teeth.
“You’d like to sing a song? What’s the young fellow talking about?”
“No one knows,” interrupted Prince Aquan, prompting another puzzled look from his father. “It began about three weeks ago. Our subjects just started swimming away.”
“They dropped everything they were doing,” continued Princess Finella. “Mermen, mermaids, even little mergirls and merboys.”
“Only the eldest and the infirm were left behind,” Aquan said. “There’s hardly anyone left.”
“But surely you sent soldiers to see where they were going?” asked Wham-Shell.
