The Machine of Doom Page 4

  “What happened?” Gill asked.

  “I’ll explain later,” Spyro called back, shooting ahead into the trees. “We need to get out of these rings before the fungi grow back.”

  His friends didn’t need telling twice. Still shaken by their experiences, they chased after Spyro, although Boomer did pause just to check he had TNT in his pockets and not hydrangeas.

  Chapter Eight

  The Chattering Key

  “According to the map,” said Gill, pushing through the undergrowth without looking where he was going, “the Chattering Key is just through this clearing.”

  “Gill, get down.” Without warning, Boomer reached up and slammed the Gillman down with one of his heavy, green hands.

  “Ow!” Gill cried out. “What did you do that for?”

  “I can smell trolls,” Boomer hissed.

  “Boomer.” Eruptor barged past, eager to get this adventure over and done with. “How many times have we got to tell you this: the reason you can smell trolls is because you are a troll.”

  “No,” said Spyro, freezing to the spot. “He’s right. Look.”

  The four friends peered through the trees. Two squat trolls were stalking toward the statue of a huge wyvern that sat on top of an imposing black pyramid in the middle of the clearing.

  “Check out what’s around that thing’s neck,” whispered Gill. “That has to be the key.”

  Sure enough, hanging from a chain around the stone wyvern’s neck was a huge key, complete with a metal face molded into the disc above its long, jagged teeth.

  “We need to stop those trolls,” hissed Eruptor. “They’ve almost got it.”

  But as the trolls reached forward for the key, its eyes snapped open.

  “Thieves, thieves!” it yelled in a voice like nails being scraped down a blackboard. “Somebody is coming to steal me. Get them!” “Now, that’s what I call a burglar alarm,” commented Gill before his voice trailed off. Awoken by the key’s warning, the stone wyvern had sprung into life. Its hideous snout whipped up and twin beams of pure energy blazed out of its jewel-encrusted eyes, vaporizing the first troll where he stood. His companion turned an even sicklier shade of green than usual, and turned to sprint back into the forest.

  “He’s getting away,” screamed the key. “Blast him!”

  And the wyvern did exactly that. All was quiet in the clearing again as the wyvern returned to its previous pose and the key shut its eyes.

  “So that’s why Kaos was trying to turn trolls invisible,” Spyro realized. “They’d be able to sneak up on the key without it seeing them.”

  “True,” agreed Gill, “but why didn’t he use the spell on those two?”

  Spyro frowned. Gill had a point.

  “Never mind that,” cut in Eruptor. “How we are supposed to nab it before that statue thing zaps us?”

  All was quiet for a minute before a smile spread slowly across Spyro’s face: “Listen up, fellas. I have a plan.”

  All was quiet in the clearing until Boomer burst out of the trees.

  “Afternoon,” the young troll called cheerfully. “Don’t mind me. I’m just a thief come to steal the Chattering Key.”

  The key’s eyes instantly flicked open.

  “It’s a thief,” it cried out. “A dirty rotten robber. Fry him!”

  The wyvern’s eyes flared into life, but the energy beams struck harmlessly into the clearing floor. Boomer had leaped back undercover.

  “Over there,” the key caterwauled as Eruptor jumped out of the trees to the right of the statue. “Another plunderer at three o’clock.”

  The wyvern’s head spun around to face the lava, monster but before it could unleash its deadly beams, the key squawked again: “No, no. To the left. To the left!”

  The wyvern twisted toward Gill, who, at exactly the same moment, sprinted out of the foliage toward the key.

  “Don’t shoot them,” hollered Boomer as he poked his head back out of the branches straight in front of the statue. “Shoot me!”

  “Yes, shoot him. I mean, shoot the one on the right. Or the left. Oh, shoot them all.” Spyro’s plan was working perfectly. As the key barraged the wyvern with conflicting commands, the living statue’s head swung back and forth, not knowing which Skylander to disintegrate first. It was so confused that it didn’t see Spyro shoot out of the trees behind the pyramid and snatch the Key from the wyvern’s neck.

  “Help!” the Chattering Key screeched. “I’ve been burglarized by a purple-scaled pilferer!”

  The wyvern zeroed in on Spyro, who was flying as fast as his wings would carry him toward the trees.

  “Anytime now would be good, guys,” Spyro called as he felt the wyvern’s eye-beams zip over his head. Almost as one, the Skylanders turned on the statue. Eruptor unleashed a barrage of magma balls at the creature, while Gill blasted it with water. Just to make sure that the monster was completely disoriented, Boomer lobbed the triple-bound dynamite bundles he’d been saving for a special occasion at the wyvern’s head. The troll let out a celebratory whoop when he saw one of his charges shatter the gems embedded in the statues eyes.

  “Some use you were,” the key complained as Spyro crashed back into the trees. Spyro turned around quickly to make sure his friends were getting away and was satisfied to see them making their escape while the wyvern roared in frustration.

  “Good work,” Spyro praised as the Skylanders gathered around, back in the safety of the trees. “Now we just need to get this back to Flynn.”

  “You freakish filcherers don’t think you’ve won that easily, do you?” the Key scoffed, an evil grin flickering over its metallic face. “Oi! Fido, I’m over here. Fetch, boy!”

  “Fido!?” repeated a disbelieving Eruptor as the Skylanders took to their heels. “What kind of name for a wyvern is Fido?”

  “His kind of name, by the looks of it,” pointed out Gill as behind them the wyvern scrambled down from its perch and crashed blindly after them. “Run!”

  Chapter Nine

  The Trap

  It’s amazing what having five tons of furious stone wyvern snapping at your heels will do for you. The Skylanders had never run so fast. They tore through the forest, tripping on brambles in their flight, while the statue plowed through ancient tree trunks as if they were twigs.

  Even the Fungus Rings of Despair didn’t slow them. They were moving too fast to be affected by the spores.

  “Perhaps that thing will be trapped in a nightmare of being pooped on by pigeons,” offered Boomer, only to be shot down by the Chattering Key.

  “Don’t bet on it, tea leaf. Statues aren’t known for their lungs. How is it going to breathe in the spores?”

  Sure enough, the wyvern simply bulldozed its way through the toadstools without a flicker of fear. Boomer shoved a stick of dynamite into the Key’s mouth for being such a smart aleck.

  “One more word from you,” the troll warned, “and I’ll light it.”

  “You won’t have the chance,” grumbled Eruptor. “It’s gaining on us.”

  Gill skidded to a halt.

  “What are you doing?” cried Spyro, but the Gillman just waved them on.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he announced, turning to face the wyvern and raising his water cannon.

  “That won’t stop it, Gill.”

  “No, but it might slow it down a bit,” Gill cried out. “Let’s just see if mud sticks around here.”

  Gill fired, not at the wyvern’s body, but at its feet. Almost instantly the forest floor became a quagmire. With a bellow, the creature slid, almost falling flat on its face. Within seconds, it was caked in the stuff.

  “Eruptor, care to turn up the heat?” Gill asked, and the lava monster grinned. Without another word, he belched up a deluge of magma that sizzled as it flooded
over the freezing cold mud. The wyvern wailed as the sludge on its legs hardened, holding it fast.

  “Baked to perfection,” said Eruptor as the wyvern struggled against the now rock-hard mud.

  Boomer’s eyes narrowed. The clay around the monster was already cracking.

  “That won’t hold it for long,” he warned, ignoring the muffled agreement of the Key, but Spyro wasn’t worried.

  “We’re nearly there,” the dragon insisted. “I can see the balloon.”

  “Flynn better have left the engine running,” rumbled Eruptor.

  But Flynn hadn’t left the engine running. Flynn was currently tied up from head to toe in thick, scratchy rope and hanging upside down from the grip of a titanic troll.

  “Hello, chaps,” the pilot called sheepishly as the Skylanders piled out of the Forest. “I can explain everything.”

  “Let me,” came a sniveling voice from behind the stricken Mabu. “It’s all quite simple, really. You lot have fallen into my quite brilliant trap.”

  “Kaos!” Spyro growled, his crest flattening against his head. “What trap?”

  “What trap?” Kaos burst into laughter, tears running down his cheeks. “Did you hear that, Glumshanks? They didn’t even realize it was a trap.”

  “Well, to be honest,” Flynn chimed in as Kaos’s lanky butler loped up beside his master, “it would be a pretty useless trap if they did, baldy!”

  “SIIILENCE!” Kaos raged, furious that, as usual, Flynn had got one over on him. “It was a spectacular plan. A monumental plan. The most SPECTACULAR, MONUMENTAL plan of all time. A plan so cunning that these dunderheads still don’t realize what it was.”

  “Your plan,” said Spyro through clenched teeth, “was to make it blindly obvious that you were after the Chattering Key, so that Eon sent us after it and you didn’t get it first.”

  “Then, when we’d braved all the dangers to retrieve the thing . . . ,” continued Eruptor.

  “. . . you’d force us to hand it over in exchange for our friend, Flynn,” added Gill before Boomer concluded with: “All you had to do was lie in wait.”

  “Sounds like the dunderheads have got it pretty sewn up,” muttered Glumshanks, scratching the back of his neck.

  “It doesn’t matter,” spat Kaos. “If they don’t want to see their pilot pal turned into a tasty troll snack, they need to give me the Chattering Key RIGHT THIS MINUTE.”

  “Don’t do it, Spyro,” called out Flynn courageously. “It’s true, the world will be a much bleaker place without me, and thousands of fair maidens will be weeping into their pillows tonight, but if you give Kaos that key, you’ll be handing him ultimate power. And I really can’t stand the creep!”

  A shadow passed over Spyro’s face.

  “No,” he said finally. “I’m not going to sacrifice you, Flynn. I’ll give Kaos the key.”

  “What?” shrieked Kaos. “You DARE to defy ME, Kaos, Lord of Darkness? You shall pay for this!”

  The Skylanders frowned in unison as Glumshanks whispered into his master’s ear.

  “Er, sir? He said that he’d give you the key.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah, just then,” Flynn chipped in. “We all heard him.”

  “Of course he did!” crowed Kaos excitedly. “I was just checking to see if you were all paying attention. Glumshanks, you go and get it from him.”

  Glumshanks clumped forward and took the key from Spyro, apologizing under his breath. “I’m sorry. I keep telling him he needs to clear his ears out. He has a serious earwax condition.”

  “What did you say?” bellowed Kaos from behind.

  “I just commented on the seriously good condition of this key,” Glumshanks lied as he handed it over. “They don’t make them like that anymore.”

  “AT LASSSST,” Kaos exulted, holding the key above his head. “The Chattering Key is in my grasp. The secrets of the Ancient Ones will be MINE, ALL MINE!!”

  The key mumbled something against the stick of dynamite that was still wedged in its mouth.

  “Looks like it’s trying to tell you a secret now, master,” Glumshanks pointed out as he reached over and yanked the explosive out of the Key’s jaws.

  “Thank you,” said the Key gratefully, flexing its aching jaws. “That thing was killing me.”

  “What wisdom do you wish to impart, ancient and mysterious artifact?” Kaos inquired, leaning in close. The Key wrinkled its nose.

  “Just that you need a bath, little man. You are ripe!” the Key complained before yelling, “Fido! Follow your nose!”

  From within the forest, the wyvern roared in reply and the Skylanders looked at each other as they heard an ominous cracking noise.

  “It’s breaking loose,” Gill warned.

  “No matter,” said Kaos, shoving the Key into Glumshanks’s hands. “All I need to do is recite the ancient and mysterious incantation and the ancient and mysterious tomb will mysteriously and, er, well, anciently open.” Kaos was frantically searching every pocket of his ratty, faded robes. “Glumshanks, where is the ancient and mysterious incantation?”

  With a roll of his eyes, Glumshanks fished a scrap of paper out from his own pocket and handed it to his master.

  “Yes, of course, I gave it to you for safekeeping,” fibbed Kaos before unscrewing the paper and clearing his throat. From behind them, the sound of the approaching wyvern grew louder.

  “It’s free!” cried out Gill.

  “Are you sitting comfortably?” Kaos asked with a smirk. “Then I shall begin:

  “Oh ancient Arkeyans, I have the key,

  And so you will give to me,

  Everything my heart deserves,

  Now do it quick, before you get on my nerves.’”

  As soon as Kaos had finished reciting the incantation, the ground beneath their feet began to shake. Spyro had to leap out of the way as a stone pillar burst out of the rock and rose into the air, a large keyhole carved into its side.

  “BEHOLD.” Kaos snatched the Key back from his servant. “The ancient and mysterious lock.”

  Spyro wasn’t sure what noise he hated most—the sound of the blind wyvern racing toward them or the triumph in Kaos’s voice.

  “I wouldn’t put me in there if I were you,” said the Key.

  “Shut up,” said Kaos as he stalked toward the pillar.

  “You’ll get everything you deserve,” said the Key as it was raised to the keyhole.

  “That’s what I’m counting on,” said Kaos as he thrust it into the lock.

  “Me too,” smirked the Key to itself.

  With a roar, the wyvern burst free of the forest. Everyone turned and froze in fear except for Kaos, who was struggling in vain to turn the Key in the lock, a vein pulsing on his egg-shaped head as he strained with the effort. Not taking his eyes from the wyvern, Glumshanks shoved his master aside and turned the key with ease.

  The lock clicked once as the wyvern pounced.

  Chapter Ten

  The Pyramid of Just Rewards

  It had all happened so fast. One minute the Skylanders were waiting for the wyvern to come crashing down on them, and the next a beam of light had shot from the pillar, blasting the living statue into a million fragments.

  In front of them, the forest was being churned up as a gargantuan pyramid rose out of the ground. Mighty oaks splintered as if they were firewood, and hideous batlike creatures shot up into the sky from their hiding places in the forest canopy.

  Spyro rolled to the side to avoid being dragged onto the flight of stone steps that erupted from the base of the pillar up into the side of the pyramid.

  Finally, when the pyramid had reached its zenith, all became still once again, save for the rocks, loose branches, and dry soil that slid down the structure’s smooth sides
.

  “Even I have to admit that was kinda impressive,” whistled Eruptor.

  High above their heads, the clouds spiraled around the pyramid’s peak, which Spyro recognized as the wyvern’s perch from the clearing. Had this really all been buried beneath the forest all this time? Lightning reflected against its polished surface.

  “Who dares raise the Pyramid of Just Rewards?” boomed a deafening voice that seemed to come from high above.

  “That’ll be me,” squeaked Kaos, beside himself with glee. “I dare.”

  “Do you deserve what you will be given?”

  “Absolutely,” replied Kaos eagerly. “Without question!”

  “Then enter of your own free will.” Two colossal doors swung open at the top of the stairs. “And woe betide anyone who follows you within.”

  “Ha!” shouted Kaos, pointing straight at Spyro. “Did you hear that? Woe betide. That means YOU, dragonfly.”

  “We’ll stop you if it’s the last thing we do, Kaos,” promised Spyro, only to be rewarded by another wave of manic laughter from the victorious Portal Master.

  “You and whose army, Skychumps? I’m about to lay my hands on an ancient and mysterious weapon of ancient and mysterious power. I will be UNSTOPPABLE and you will be DOOOOOOMED!!”

  “Er, sir,” said Glumshanks, sidling up to Kaos. “Perhaps we should get up there and get the ancient and mysterious weapon before they realize that they could just knock us from this staircase before we get to the door?”

  “Idiot,” screamed Kaos. “Whose side are you on, anyway? I’d already thought of that. Trolls, bring that puffed-up excuse of a pilot. If the Skyflunkees try anything, throw him from the stairs and watch his poor broken body smash against the sides of the pyramid. Bwa-ha-ha-HAAAAA!”

  Eruptor bristled. “I can take him, Spyro. All it would take is one magma ball.”

  “Cool it, Eruptor,” Gill warned. “Kaos isn’t joking. He’s crazy enough to chuck Flynn over the edge.”