The Traitor of Belltroll Page 6

  Albert was about to say something to try and calm her down, but Leroy took that into his own hands. “That’s exactly what we can’t be thinking right now. He’s obviously going to be our biggest asset in Belltroll. We’ll just have to prove to him that he’s wrong about Albert.” He nudged Albert. “Right, dude?”

  Albert swallowed hard and forced away thoughts of last night. “Right.”

  “Festus,” Birdie said, testing out the strange name. “Who do you think that is?”

  “No idea,” Albert said. “We’ll have to read up on it later, see what we can find. Maybe Petra knows something.”

  Just then, Professor Bigglesby appeared. He stopped before the trio and lifted a hand toward his classroom door. “Standing around chittering like Moxenmice, are we, Balance Keepers? Time is of the essence, or rather the essence is of time! Onward!”

  He shuffled past.

  “That dude is so strange,” Leroy said.

  “Strange doesn’t even begin to cut it,” Albert answered. “Let’s go.”

  Birdie and Leroy entered, Albert and Farnsworth trailing behind them.

  Belltroll was definitely the most curious Realm of them all.

  Albert, Birdie, Leroy, and Hoyt—and Farnsworth, who was so thrilled to be allowed in class that his tail hadn’t stopped wagging for the past half hour—sat in chairs across from Professor Bigglesby.

  Because he was no taller than a yardstick, Bigglesby’s desk was larger than most, acting as a sort of stage for the dwarf in the front of his office. There were the usual gleaming swords, old wooden crossbows, and strange spiked balls on chains that Albert had seen before in medieval video games and movies.

  But there was something else today. To the left of Bigglesby’s desk was a smaller table. There was a row of smoking, bubbling potions on top.

  “Potions!” Albert pointed them out to his friends.

  Professor Bigglesby sauntered past them all and climbed on top of his old oak desk. He looked like a little figurine, full of pride.

  He waved his arms wildly, his beady eyes lighting up like hot coals as he began to explain the Realm of Belltroll.

  “You’ve been to the other Realms before, and as you know, Calderon and Ponderay are quite the opposite of each other,” Bigglesby said. “Calderon can get rather fiery, and Ponderay is full of water. But Belltroll is another thing entirely, perhaps the most beautiful of the three.” He had an old projector set up, with a hand-crank battery on it to keep it running. Bigglesby moved toward it. “Now, if my assistant were here . . .”

  Suddenly the door burst open, and Petra shuffled in.

  “Sorry I’m late, Professor!” Petra squeaked. He was always squeaking, no matter the time of day, and Albert smiled at the sight of his poor, frazzled friend.

  “No matter, Petra!” Bigglesby squeaked right back.

  It was like watching two mice have a conversation about fresh cheese.

  Petra waved a quick hello to the group and rushed past them to the projector. He pulled down a wall screen, cranked up the motor, and stood there turning the wheel while Professor Bigglesby got started with his speech.

  A picture appeared, in black and white. Professor Bigglesby wasn’t exaggerating. Even from the grainy image of Belltroll, it looked like it really could be the prettiest Realm of the three.

  There were, as always, several Rings. The Ring of Entry, the Ring of Emerald, and the Troll Mountain Range in the very center.

  It suddenly struck Albert how much the Realm looked like a giant painting of Scotland that his mom had in their apartment back in New York. Flat marshlands leading into big rolling hills, which then turned into three fierce mountains in the very center.

  He imagined how green it all must be, in real life.

  “That looks beautiful,” Birdie said. “Just imagine Jadar, getting to spread his wings and soar all over the place.”

  “And Geoff,” Leroy said, mentioning the Jackalope he’d gotten last term, in Ponderay. “She’d hop those hills like a boss.”

  Farnsworth, too, would love Belltroll, from what Albert could see. But Albert could already tell the Realm was too dangerous for the little dog. He’d be swallowed up by the swamps in a second. Albert looked sideways at Hoyt and realized he didn’t have a companion creature. For one second, Albert felt sorry for Hoyt, missing out on that small bit of joy.

  But when Hoyt looked over at Albert and raised a brow at him, Albert looked away. Last term, Albert had saved Hoyt’s life in Ponderay. That very same day, they’d decided to put their issues aside and work as a real unit. Together, they blazed up the Ten Pillars, leaping across them to plug in Tiles and stop the Pillars from spinning out of control.

  Albert had seen a shining chance at a new friendship there, and when Hoyt betrayed him, and everyone else, it stung.

  Had Hoyt just pretended to like Albert, to get his help in solving the Imbalance? If Hoyt’s plan had worked, instead of screwing everything up, Hoyt would have been the one to plug in the final key to saving Ponderay.

  Albert didn’t realize until just now how much Hoyt’s move had hurt. To go back on your word of friendship so soon after giving it . . .

  But now wasn’t the time to dwell on Hoyt. Albert sighed and turned back to the projector.

  “Indeed, Belltroll is beautiful!” Professor Bigglesby was saying. “But don’t let her good looks trick you. Belltroll is a wicked Realm, and she uses her beauty to fool even the smartest and strongest of Balance Keepers. She is the most pivotal Realm to keeping the Balance of all three.”

  Albert thought that sounded a little like his mom’s fresh brownies. Sometimes, they looked and smelled so good that he’d snag one right off the cooling rack, only to yelp and toss it away when he realized how hot it was.

  “I’m confused,” Hoyt said.

  Professor Bigglesby nodded. “It’s tough to explain, Mr. Jackson. Perhaps a visual aid will do the trick.” Professor Bigglesby snapped his fingers, and Petra handed him three books. Bigglesby stood the first book upright on his desk, then leaned the other two against it at an angle, almost like a teepee.

  “We have Ponderay and Calderon on the sides, and Belltroll in the center,” Bigglesby said, pointing at the three books. “With both Ponderay and Calderon leaning against Belltroll”—he pointed at the two books on the sides—“they are able to stay upright. But remove the perfect Balance of Belltroll . . .” Bigglesby ripped the center book away, and the other two came crashing down against each other, unable to stay upright. “The other two Realms will fall into chaos as well.”

  “Well, this changes things,” Leroy said.

  The traitor is a genius, Albert thought. Destroy Belltroll, destroy the Core, destroy the world.

  “The goal is still the same,” Bigglesby continued as Petra cranked the projector and changed the slide. “We solve the Imbalance before it reaches its splitting point, and in turn, stop the fall of all three Realms.”

  He was making it sound so easy. Forget a math test, Albert thought. Fail this test and the whole world fails to exist.

  “We will enter Belltroll through the Ring of Entry,” Bigglesby continued, diving right in to the plan for the day.

  According to the drawing of the Ring of Entry, it was basically marshlands. They were low and watery, and Albert imagined it might smell a bit like a swamp. “Since you four have already entered a Realm before, I won’t spend long explaining the way it all works. I feel it is best to learn by experience, and so today, I will simply give you a quick overview of the Realm itself. We’ll learn as we go, beginning tomorrow.”

  He surveyed Albert, Birdie, Leroy, and Hoyt, who all sat quietly, soaking up his words. At least they had one more day to prepare than Bigglesby had said they would during the meeting in the Pit. Albert was about to ask why the change of plans, but Bigglesby plowed on.

  “The real trouble here is that we don’t yet know the cause of the Imbalance in Belltroll.” He waved a hand at Petra, who changed the image again. Sweat was be
ading up on Petra’s brow, but he wiped it away and cranked the projector like he was a conductor driving a train.

  “In the center of Belltroll stands three mountains, with Troll Mountain in the middle,” Professor Bigglesby said, his voice growing more excited by the minute. The image switched to the very center ring of the Realm.

  This mountain wasn’t shaped like any normal mountain.

  In fact, Albert wondered if it was truly a mountain at all. Jagged and fierce-looking, it was more like a giant rock that stretched high into the sky, with lethal crags and divots all across its sides.

  At the very top of the mountain was a prominent split, almost like a giant had taken a knife and carved out a solid chunk from the center of the peak. It looked like the tuning fork Pap’s porch buddies used to tune their banjos, or like it had been split into two halves. In between them was a gap, just wide enough for a golden, floating . . .

  “Is that a bell dangling in that gap?” Albert asked.

  The mountains all had the same shape, with the same giant golden bells floating in the middle of their strange splits.

  Bigglesby winked. “Indeed it is, Mr. Flynn, but I’ll cover that in a moment.”

  “It’s called Troll Mountain,” Birdie said, cocking her head. “Why?”

  Professor Bigglesby grinned. “Because, Miss Howell, the lower portion of the mountain is home to the Trolls of Belltroll.”

  “Trolls?” Hoyt practically shouted the word. “Like the giant ones?”

  Bigglesby nodded. “Very giant indeed.” He waved his hand at Petra again.

  All four Balance Keepers gasped as a sketch of a Troll came into view. Calling the Troll ugly would be an understatement.

  “It’s hideous,” Hoyt whispered.

  For once, Albert totally agreed.

  It was just as Albert imagined the creature to look: humanlike, and as tall as a four-story building. Its arms and legs, as wide as tree trunks, were coated in awful-looking bumps and warts. The Troll’s head was the size of a boulder, and its eyes were as large as pumpkins. It wore what looked like a giant loincloth, and when Petra switched the slide again, they saw a sketch of a Troll bending on one knee, handing a tiny flower to a baby deer.

  “It’s actually kind of adorable,” Birdie said. “Once you get past all the bumps and lumps.”

  “One would think so,” Bigglesby responded. “But should the Trolls wake at the wrong time of day . . .”

  The slide switched, and Birdie clapped a hand to her mouth.

  The image on the screen was a full-color drawing, and it was horrific. The Troll, who had looked ugly but peaceful before, had transformed into a giant green monster.

  Its face was frozen in a horrific roar, its fists gripping trees, yanking them right out of the ground like blades of grass.

  Leroy leaned over. “Birdie, you might have spoken too soon.”

  She nodded, her face frozen in a mask of horror.

  “Normally, the Trolls are peaceful,” Professor Bigglesby said. “Should you see them in shades of green, though, you must run.”

  “Curse my incredible memory,” Leroy said with a groan. “I will never forget that image.”

  The picture switched again, thankfully. This time, it was a drawing of Troll Mountain. The artist had drawn this sketch so that the bottom half of the mountain was see-through, like a 3D rendering. Inside, Albert could see there was a strange, spiral-like shape leading from the center of the mountain down deep into the ground beneath.

  “The Trolls sleep most of their lives,” Bigglesby explained. “They only wake once a day, to do their job in Troll Mountain.”

  “And what’s that?” Leroy asked.

  Professor Bigglesby paced back and forth on top of his desk, like a little toy soldier marching to a beat. “It’s all about the center of the range. Troll Mountain sits on a massive spindle. You see it there, depicted in half the drawing.”

  So that’s that spiral thing, Albert thought.

  “Think of it as a screw buried deep in the ground of Belltroll. The mountain naturally grinds downward, deeper and deeper into the Realm. Troll Mountain sits right on top of a set of tectonic plates. If it grinds too deep . . .” He held his arms out. “Boom! We experience a quake. A few minor ones are all right, but in large quantities and proportions, disaster is imminent.”

  “Well, that sure makes me want to take a vacation there,” Leroy mused, and Albert muffled a laugh into his fist.

  “I will pretend I didn’t hear that unfortunate attempt at humor, Mr. Jones,” Bigglesby said, and went on. “Now, this Realm is not without a defense against disaster, of course. Inside Troll Mountain is a massive wheel, impossible for humans to turn. This is where the Trolls come in. The next slide, Petra, if you will.”

  Petra, who was looking incredibly close to passing out from keeping the crank turning, switched the slide.

  Another drawing of Troll Mountain appeared. This one was zoomed in on the top of the mountain, so that they got a really good closeup look at that strange peak. It wasn’t at all like the mountains Albert had seen in documentaries, where big mountain sheep leaped from one rocky crag to another.

  That strange split was much larger than Albert originally thought, perhaps a car’s length wide. Dangling in the center, held aloft by nothing at all, was the Bell.

  It looked very nearly like the Liberty Bell that Albert had always seen in his history textbooks—big and old and full of ancient stories. “What’s that for?” he asked. It seemed pretty random, but if Albert had learned anything about the Core, it was that nothing was random here. Everything had a purpose.

  “Once a day, by magic, the Bells of Belltroll ring. There are two more, on the smaller mountains on either side of this one. The Bells ring at just the right frequency to wake the Trolls, who rise, march down to the wheel in the center of the mountain, and spin it counterclockwise.”

  “Which, I’m guessing, turns the mountain up and away from the ground of the Realm,” Leroy said, adjusting his glasses.

  “Precisely!” Professor Bigglesby said, clapping his hands. “The Trolls turn the wheel, pulling the mountain’s spindle up and out of the ground, thus preventing it from digging too deep. The Core Watchers and I are assuming, at this point, that the quakes are happening because the Trolls aren’t doing their job. Now, whether it’s because they aren’t waking, or because the wheel is broken, or because of some other unknown reason . . .” He held his empty hands out before him. “The cause of the Imbalance has yet to be seen.”

  Birdie raised her hand and waited for Professor Bigglesby to acknowledge her before she spoke up. “So how do we find out, then?”

  Professor Bigglesby smiled at this, his tiny face lighting up as if he were standing before a ray of sunlight. “We go into the Realm itself, Miss Howell.” He looked at the drawing of Belltroll. “And we discover the truth with our very own eyes.”

  Everyone watched as Professor Bigglesby reached around his desk to a shelf where a leather tube was resting. He lifted it gently, sweeping dust from the top.

  “This was delivered to me just this morning,” Professor Bigglesby said, handing the scroll over to Hydra. “It’s been considered a Core artifact, and therefore not for public use, but . . . a dwarf always has friends in high places.”

  He took the top off the tube. Inside was a rolled-up map, which spilled out onto the desk. It was made of ancient parchment, much like a pirate’s treasure map, colored with shades of faded black and brown ink. There was the Realm, in circular layers like an onion.

  Professor Bigglesby allowed them a moment to look before rolling the map up and placing it back into its leather case. “This will show you the best route from the Core to the center of Belltroll, so keep your eyes on it, Balance Keepers. Learn it well, pay attention. The map will change according to the Realm’s conditions.”

  “How?” Albert asked, because this was too cool not to know.

  Professor Bigglesby winked but didn’t answer Albert’s question
. Instead, he signaled for them to stand up. Class was over, and Albert yawned as he realized how exhausted he really was.

  “Get some relaxation in, Balance Keepers,” Bigglesby said. “Go to the Library, enjoy a candy or two. Tomorrow, we’ll enter Belltroll, and with any luck, we’ll stop this Imbalance before it gets out of hand.”

  “And if we can’t?” Hoyt asked. He’d been pretty silent this entire time.

  Professor Bigglesby didn’t smile at this. “Then we’d better hope the Core is strong enough to hold itself together.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Entering the Realm

  Hydra was on their way to Lake Hall when the green torches flickered.

  Farnsworth let out a hair-raising howl.

  “What’s wrong, buddy?” Albert asked, stooping to pat him on the head. “You okay?”

  Farnsworth’s hackles raised, and it was then that Albert noticed the trembling beneath his feet.

  “You guys, I think—”

  BOOM!!

  It was as if the Core itself exploded.

  Albert was flung sideways into the hard tunnel wall. Birdie cried out as Leroy knocked into her. Screams echoed down the tunnel, and dust rained over Albert’s head.

  Then all was silent.

  “Everyone okay?” Albert scrambled to his feet. Torches had tumbled from their spots on the wall, and up ahead, a door hung from a broken hinge.

  There was a screech and a pop as the speaker started up. Professor Asante’s rushed voice rang through the Core. “Students, please report to your dormitories at once. Report any injuries or fatalities to the hospital wing.”

  “Fatalities?!” Leroy squawked.

  “Professors, Core Watchers, and teams Hydra and Argon, please report to Lake Hall immediately,” Professor Asante finished. The speaker cut off.

  Albert looked to his friends. Dust clouds still hung in the tunnel, and for one moment, he felt like he was standing in the middle of a war zone. But other than Birdie’s bloody nose, they were all okay.

  “Let’s go see what they want,” Albert said, brushing the dust from his pants.