The Traitor of Belltroll Read online

  It lasted two minutes, the longest quake they’d faced so far.

  When it was over, embers floated down around them like falling stars.

  The loudspeaker came on, even here, this deep in the Core.

  “Balance Keepers on Team Hydra,” Professor Bigglesby’s voice rang through the cave. “Please report to the Main Chamber immediately.”

  The speaker crackled off, and Albert turned to his friends. Leroy’s new hat was on sideways, and Birdie had an ember fizzling out on her shoulder, burning a little hole in her T-shirt. Hoyt was shaken up but actually looking a little more confident than he had been lately.

  They all stood and brushed themselves off, and Professor Flynn led them back across the rocks. When they were safely on dry land, Professor Flynn paused and turned to Team Hydra. “Be safe today. You know I’d give anything to be here when you get back, but . . . I have to go to the surface.”

  “Why?” Hoyt asked. “What’s going on up there?”

  Professor Flynn’s face was grim. “Quakes, same as here. But this morning, part of the Brooklyn Bridge crumbled in New York. And in Dallas, Reunion Tower toppled sideways, destroying half of downtown.”

  “I live half an hour from there,” Leroy said softly, disbelief in his eyes. Hoyt put a hand on his shoulder.

  “What about Oregon?” Birdie asked.

  “Nothing there,” Professor Flynn said. “But the destruction is spreading.” He looked at Albert, then back at the group. “Why don’t you three start down the tunnel. I’d like a moment with Albert.” Birdie, Leroy, and Hoyt nodded and headed back toward Trey.

  “It’s bad up there, Albert,” Professor Flynn said when they had gone. “I’m going to check on Pap, then go and make sure I get your mom somewhere safe.”

  “Tell Mom I love her,” Albert said. “Tell her thanks. For letting me do this. Make sure she’s okay.”

  His dad chuckled. “She’s a tough lady, and Pap’s as fierce as he ever was. They probably don’t even need my help.”

  Albert knew his dad was just being positive for his sake.

  Professor Flynn laid a large hand on Albert’s cheek, the way he used to do when Albert was a little boy. “You’re strong, Albert,” he said “But even the strongest of us have weaknesses. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, should you need it.”

  Professor Flynn tied an old leather sheath around Albert’s waist. The CoreSword hung neatly at his side. Albert felt like a knight from centuries ago.

  “If you find the traitor, use this to cut the Master Tiles from the chain around his or her neck.”

  Albert nodded and stood tall and proud, staring up at his dad.

  “Go and find Mom and Pap,” he said. “Make sure they stay safe.”

  “I will. Good luck today,” Professor Flynn said. “I love you, kiddo.”

  “I love you, too, Dad.”

  Albert turned and ran to catch up with his friends, leaving his dad and the Cave of Fire behind.

  The tunnels back to the Main Chamber were full of dust, with new cracks and fallen rocks from the latest quake. As they made it to the Main Chamber and passed by an impatiently waiting Professor Bigglesby, the dwarf looked up and met Albert’s eyes.

  “Be careful with the sword,” Professor Bigglesby said. “Some things are more powerful than you know.”

  A wicked grin split across his features, spreading his wrinkles out like the cracks in Belltroll. His eyes looked incredibly dark. Darker, even, than the Master Tile.

  It chilled Albert to his very core.

  CHAPTER 20

  The Strikers

  The Pegasi were true to their word, and were waiting for the Balance Keepers in the Ring of Entry. Thankfully, Petra had an in with the kitchen staff and came armed with a giant bag of red-and-white peppermints just as Hydra left for Belltroll.

  Spyro stamped his hooves as he devoured more peppermints than was healthy, and by the time the rest of the herd had had their fill, Hydra was mounted on their backs and ready to take flight.

  “This is like flying first class,” Albert said as he held on to Spyro’s mane. Hoyt was in back today. The one real striker they had was in Albert’s pack, wrapped safely inside.

  The replacement strikers were with Birdie and Leroy, one stuffed in each of their packs. Albert hoped with all his might that these would work. Today, they’d head to the center of the Realm and try to stop this Imbalance once and for all.

  “What’s first class?” Hoyt asked as he held on to Albert’s pack.

  Albert laughed. He’d forgotten Hoyt was born and raised in the Core, and wasn’t up to speed on surface-world things. “Never mind. You good?”

  Hoyt nodded, and Birdie and Leroy each agreed from their Pegasi.

  “Spyro! Giddy up!” Albert shouted. He tapped the Pegasus’s sides with his heels. “Hi-yah!”

  Spyro turned his neck so that one big dark eye focused on Albert. He didn’t have to use Creature Speak to know the Pegasus was totally confused.

  “I don’t think he speaks normal horse, bro,” Leroy said from atop his white Pegasus. “And people don’t really say ‘giddy up.’ At least, not real cowboys.”

  Birdie giggled and Hoyt muffled his laugh behind Albert’s shoulder.

  “Oh. Right. . . .” Albert nodded and simply pointed in the direction of Troll Mountain, far in the distance beyond a layer of fog.

  Spyro’s wings shot out of his sides, spreading wide over Albert’s and Hoyt’s heads.

  His herd followed suit, and before they knew it, they were rocketing into the sky like speeding bullets. Up and up they went, high over the Realm.

  Albert looked down at the mess that was Belltroll.

  Since they were last here, it had taken a serious hit.

  The ground was like a big puzzle. There were jagged cracks all over, some of them way deeper than they had been yesterday. The moors seemed to be full of more water and less land, like some pieces of land had simply broken off and sunk away.

  Spyro banked right, soaring through the clouds, and Albert saw the Trundlespikes down below, scattered on a hillside. A big crack ran through the hill and the giant creatures rolled like bowling balls away from it.

  And somehow, the grass looked less green, almost like Belltroll was sick. It was subtle, but the brilliant emerald color didn’t hurt Albert’s eyes like it had before. Now it was really just plain green, like the grass in Central Park back in New York.

  I hope my family is okay up there, Albert thought. The Brooklyn Bridge. What’ll be next to fall?

  “I hope this works!” Hoyt shouted into Albert’s ear. “Because that doesn’t look good!”

  He pointed past Albert’s shoulder as Spyro broke through the fog and Troll Mountain came into view.

  The cracks that spread out from the base of the mountain were far, far more in number. Albert marveled at how the mountain was still standing with that many cracks around it. They spread out from the mountain’s base like fingertips, stretching into the Ring of Emerald.

  Troll Mountain had been higher than the other two mountains yesterday. Now it was perfectly even with them, all three standing in a line. How much farther did it have to sink into the ground before it destroyed Belltroll for good?

  Spyro whinnied loudly, and the other Pegasi cried back.

  The sound was mournful, striking a crack in Albert’s heart as wide as the ones scattered across the Realm. It was as if the Pegasus herd noticed the difference, too. Their home was in danger, and Albert could sense Spyro flying faster.

  I can’t let this break me, Albert told himself. I have to save the Realm. For the Pegasi. For the Trolls. For the entire world.

  He made a promise in that moment.

  He would not be broken like this Realm. He would not let the fear or the anger get to him any longer.

  He would not let the traitor win.

  Spyro soared around the peak of the leftmost mountain, his wings dancing in the wind and the rest of his herd following behind.

&n
bsp; “We’ll figure this out,” Albert shouted so that everyone could hear. He looked at the Counter on his wrist and noted the time they had left.

  Forty hours wasn’t much, just under two days.

  But it was enough. It had to be.

  “So what’s the plan?” Hoyt asked. His voice carried over the wind.

  “I think we need to plug in the replacement strikers first, and then the real one. Something tells me the real one has to be the final one in place,” Birdie suggested.

  “She’s right,” Leroy said. “I mean, when you add up the odds, of course.”

  “Okay,” Albert said. “Let’s get moving then.”

  “Leroy and I will call out when we’ve hung our replacement strikers,” Birdie said, tapping her backpack. “Then you guys plug the real striker in, and it’s up to fate. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll cross our hearts and hope to die.”

  Leroy looked at Birdie. “You know that statement doesn’t really work here, right?” he said. “It’s only correctly used when someone’s talking about keeping a secret. And can’t we lay off the whole dying thing?”

  “Geez,” Birdie said. “It works good enough.”

  “No way. I have a dictionary, like, for a brain,” Leroy said back. “Trust me on this one, bro.”

  Birdie threw a hand up in the air. Even her Pegasus tossed its head like it was bred for sass. “I am not your bro!”

  “Bro or not, we should get moving,” Albert suggested, stepping in before they could get too far off track of the mission.

  Albert could hear Birdie’s and Leroy’s bickering as they steered their Pegasi away, leaving Hoyt and him behind.

  “Those two,” Hoyt said, rubbing the spot between his eyes, “give me the worst headache ever.”

  “It’s kind of nice,” Albert said with a grin as he and Hoyt relaxed on Spyro’s back. “Their arguing kind of made it less stressful when our teams were competing in the Pit the first two terms.”

  Hoyt nodded and stared out across the Realm. “We’re one team now,” he said. “And we’ll solve this Imbalance in time.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Albert said.

  He hoped that Hoyt was right.

  CHAPTER 21

  The Great Awakening

  The replacement strikers were in place, and Birdie and Leroy’s Pegasi carried them back to Troll Mountain only ten minutes after they had left.

  Things were moving quickly. But not quickly enough, Albert thought.

  “You guys ready?” he asked when everyone was back together, their Pegasi hovering in the sky near Troll Mountain.

  “Couldn’t be any readier,” Leroy said.

  Birdie and Hoyt both agreed.

  Together, Hydra turned toward the Bell. Was it Albert’s tired eyes, or was it a little less shiny today, like the dull sheen of a coin kept in someone’s pocket for too long?

  Albert unzipped his backpack and pulled out the real striker.

  “If this doesn’t work . . . ,” Hoyt said, but stopped when he saw the look on Birdie’s face. The striker was beautiful, that was for certain. The Troll markings stood out, ancient and undecipherable on its golden surface. Albert wished, so badly, that he could read what they said. But there wasn’t a Tile symbol for that—at least, not yet.

  Everyone sat back on their horses to watch as Albert called forth the Float symbol again.

  When he dropped sideways off Spyro, there was that same strange feeling of weightlessness, the same glorious feeling that he was doing the impossible.

  He imagined himself floating forward, and his Tile responded, sending him slowly across the sky, into the gap of the forked mountaintop beneath the belly of the Bell. From here, he could look up at the underside. There sat the empty hook, just waiting for the striker to be hung back in place.

  Albert’s hands shook as he lifted the striker and fit it into the hook.

  It was such a simple act. But it felt important. It felt like a step toward saving the Core, toward saving the world.

  He floated backward, his breath a little lighter in his lungs. “Well, that’s that,” he said. He looked over his shoulder at his friends. Even the Pegasi were watching, all of them holding their breath in hopes that it had worked.

  “Should we hear it?” Birdie asked. “Shouldn’t it, like, magically start striking or something?”

  Leroy shrugged. “Maybe it’s not time for it to strike. Maybe we have to wait a little bit.”

  Albert nodded, but he felt his strength waning. He floated up to Spyro and settled into place behind Hoyt on the horse’s warm back.

  Seconds passed. It felt like there was a giant clock ticking in Albert’s head. Every moment was one step closer to the Imbalance reaching its splitting point. Every tick was one more tick toward the traitor winning.

  “That’s it,” Hoyt said a minute later. “I can’t take this anymore.” He urged Spyro forward and reached out and gave the Bell a little shove.

  Albert squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a giant RING! to explode in his ears. But all they heard was the sound of the wind blowing across the mountaintop, and the faraway rumble of the Trolls’ snores beneath their feet. Spyro flew back a few feet to give them some distance from the Bell.

  “I keep feeling like we’re missing something,” Albert said.

  “Try to use your Tile,” Leroy suggested. “Supersonic Hearing?”

  Albert focused, bringing the image of the hearing symbol into the front of his mind. It picked up every single sound and frequency, even the supersoft ones, like a predator stalking the heartbeat of its prey.

  There were a lot of sounds. Hoyt, scratching his head as loudly as someone scratching sandpaper. The Pegasi’s powerful wings, flapping as they held the Balance Keepers in the sky. The Trolls, snoring as loud as motorcycles far beneath them. He even heard the anxious pounding of Birdie’s heart.

  But there was no ringing. No sound of the striker doing anything different to the Bell.

  Albert shook his head, clearing the symbol from his mind. “Maybe we didn’t hang it right. . . .”

  He leaned out to get a closer look, and as he did, something fell out of his pocket. Hoyt caught it just before it tumbled into the open sky.

  It was the red gem that they’d found on the first day in the Realm, in the moors.

  “You still have that?” Birdie asked. “Why’d you bring it with you?”

  Albert nodded. “It felt weird not bringing it here. But I still don’t know what it’s for.”

  “Weird Troll mojo, probably,” Hoyt said, holding the gem up so that it shone in the daylight.

  Leroy suddenly snapped his fingers. “Let me see the gem,” he said.

  Hoyt tossed it to him, and Leroy turned it round and round in his palm. His eyes lit up.

  “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but . . . Albert, can you take me to the Bell?”

  Albert nodded slowly. “If I concentrate. . . .”

  “Let’s go, then,” Leroy said. “Before I change my mind.”

  It was double the concentration, and double the nerves, now that Leroy’s life was on the line. But Albert mustered up the strength of the Float Tile and the Weightlessness Tile and merged them together.

  “If you let go of my hand, you’ll fall and die,” Albert said as he helped Leroy down from his Pegasus.

  “Oh, that’s encouraging,” Leroy said.

  But he put on a brave face and grasped Albert’s hand hard.

  Together, they floated into the small gap between the Bell and the mountain’s two sides. Albert’s mind throbbed from the effort.

  “We’re literally flying, dude!” Leroy said, his voice trembling.

  “Albert Flynn, if you drop our best friend I will pummel you!” Birdie shouted from her Pegasus.

  They reached the underside of the Bell. Before Albert could stop him, Leroy reached up and removed the striker from its hook.

  “What are you doing?” Hoyt shouted. “You could have messed with the system!”


  “Just hang on,” Leroy said, his voice echoing in the giant bell. Albert floated them backward a few feet.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think about this before,” Leroy said as he held out the striker with his free hand. “Look at this!” The striker had an empty octagon-shaped hole on the end that hit the bell. Albert had assumed that was just the way it was shaped, like maybe the hole helped the ringing hit the right vibration and pitch. He wasn’t an expert on bell strikers.

  Leroy went on, voice rising with excitement. “It’s just like in the Pit, how we had to match Tiles with their correct pillars? Only this,” he said, holding up the striker, “is matching the gem to its striker! Here, hold this.”

  Leroy passed Albert the striker and then pulled the gem out of his pocket. All the while he kept on iron grip on Albert’s hand.

  Albert’s eyes widened as Leroy held up the gem. Slowly, Leroy pressed it to the end of the striker.

  It fit perfectly, like the two were made for each other.

  It was magic. In an instant, the gem lit up as if set on fire from within. More Troll symbols appeared all over its facets, ones that definitely hadn’t been there before.

  “That’s it,” Birdie gasped from her Pegasus. “Memory Boy, you’re a genius!”

  Leroy grinned. “Plug it back in,” he said to Albert.

  “No way,” Albert said. “You do the honors. You figured it out!”

  He floated them back to the underside of the Bell.

  Leroy beamed.

  They all held their breath as Leroy hung the striker back up. Albert crossed his fingers and begged it to work. When the striker was safely in place, he floated them quickly away, out of range of the Bell and back to their Pegasi.

  It was almost too perfect, how quickly the striker began to move! Back and forth, it struck against the sides of the Bell. There was no sound.

  “Use your Tile and listen.” Hoyt nudged Albert when he landed beside him again on Spyro. “See if it worked!”

  Albert’s whole body buzzed with anticipation as he conjured the image of Supersonic Hearing.