The Traitor of Belltroll
Dedication
To my dad, Don Cummings, for always being my Plot Doctor.
And to my editor, Katie Bignell, who deserves all the
dedications in the world. And, while we’re at it, a raise.
Contents
Dedication
Maps
Prologue
1. The Tremor
2. The Truth Revealed
3. The Cavalry Arrives
4. The Troll Tree
5. A Surprise Welcome
6. Lucinda’s Silence
7. A Strange Greeting
8. The Traitor’s Message
9. The Realm of Belltroll
10. Debriefing, Belltroll-Style
11. Entering the Realm
12. The Ring of Entry
13. Another Day, Another Danger
14. The Trundlespikes
15. The Greatest Surprise, Like, Ever
16. The Pegasus Message
17. Troll Mountain
18. The Secret Meeting
19. Cave of Fire
20. The Strikers
21. The Great Awakening
22. The Trolls of Belltroll
23. For Petra
24. The End, End
25. The Fight for the Core
26. Petra’s Secret
27. The Battle
28. Festus Flynn
29. Facing the Traitor
30. The Fight to the End
31. The Master Tiles
32. The Fight to the Finish
33. Waking Up
34. The Core Trial
35. The Punishments Given
36. The Heart of the Core
37. The Cave of Souls
38. A New Beginning
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Back Ad
About the Author
Books by Lindsay Cummings
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Maps
Prologue
The Main Chamber was as silent as a perfectly Balanced Realm.
There was a flicker, a shimmer and twist of the air, and then two figures appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
The two stolen Master Tiles hung from the first figure’s neck, glittering even in the darkness of a large black cloak.
The second figure was shorter, walking a few paces behind in a show of insignificance. The Apprentice.
“The boy,” the Master said. “Do we have plans to bring him back to us soon?”
The Apprentice sped up, trailing the Master like a loyal dog. “I have set things in motion. But you, of course, have to push it all over the edge.”
The Master liked the Main Chamber empty and silent. None of those awful, jittering Balance Keepers milling about, their heads held higher than they deserved to be held. Their foolish, insignificant, regular Tiles hanging from their necks.
“Tonight,” the Master said, stopping near the door to the Realm of Belltroll. “Tonight, we will draw him in.”
“We’ll need to be careful,” the Apprentice said.
The Master spun around, cloak billowing like a dark cloud. The two black Tiles clinked on the chain around the Master’s neck, and the Apprentice took a step backward, cowering.
Pathetic, the Master thought. So much weakness in one body.
“I know exactly what we need,” the Master hissed. “We need chaos. We need destruction. We need an Imbalance, and Belltroll is the key.”
The Apprentice stooped to one knee. “As you wish, Master.”
“Then open the door.” The Master lifted a hand and pointed. “To Belltroll.”
The Apprentice stood and set to work.
The Master paced, but not from worry. If an onlooker came, or someone was roaming freely in the night, the Master would take care of it.
That was the fun part.
A Core Cleaner came around the corner, whistling a merry tune. A name tag on his chest said Harold.
“Evening,” the Master said.
The old man’s tune fell silent.
“Evening,” he said, nodding. “What’re you up to?” His eyes widened as he looked back and forth.
The Master channeled the strength of the Tiles and was able to look through Harold’s eyes to see what the old man saw.
The trembling Apprentice, kneeling before the door.
The Master, cloaked, but with a shadow of light cast over a pale face.
“You,” Harold gasped. His broom clattered to the floor. “But . . . but it can’t be. . . .”
“A shame,” the Master said, lifting a single long finger to the air, vision returning to normal. “You were always such an excellent worker.”
The Master’s body shuddered, just once, as a surge of power came from the two Master Tiles.
Then Harold dropped to the floor, his mouth open in a silent scream.
“Is he . . . ,” the Apprentice began.
“Not dead,” the Master said. “But not able to speak a word of this. Your slowness ails me.” A deep sigh, and the Master stepped up to the door. “I wonder, sometimes, why I even keep you around.”
The Apprentice scooted away into the shadows.
With a final push of magic from the Master Tiles, the door to Belltroll swung open with a silent hiss. Dust rained down from the doorway, as if the entrance to the Realm had not been opened for a very, very long time.
“You know what to do,” the Master said. “Do not fail me. If Albert Flynn does not arrive and does not die in this Realm . . .”
“The boy will die,” the Apprentice promised. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“No,” the Master said, grinning. “I will.”
The tunnel beyond the door was beautiful, black like a moonless night, black like the two Master Tiles clinking on their chain. The Master stepped forward.
Albert Flynn would walk through this very tunnel soon.
And once he went inside Belltroll, he would never come back out.
CHAPTER 1
The Tremor
Albert Flynn had faced a lot of dangers these past several months.
He’d flown on the back of a wild Guildacker, and done so a second time once the winged beast was tamed. He’d braved fire and volcanoes and water cold enough to stop a man’s heart, and he’d been one-third of a team that had saved the world not once, but twice.
He’d opened a door in the side of tree, crawled through a tangle of roots, and made it to the core of the earth. Better yet, he’d lived to tell the tale.
That was all normal for a Balance Keeper. A bit scary at times, but thrilling, too.
But now Albert was in New York City facing the scariest thing yet.
A math test.
Even worse, an algebra test.
Albert sat in the back row of his third-period class tapping his pencil on his desk. It had only been a few weeks since he and his friends had saved the Realm of Ponderay from facing a horrible Imbalance, and Albert was already bored.
Pencils scratched around him. The clock ticked closer and closer to the end of the hour. And still Albert’s page was mostly blank. He tried to tell his brain to think math, but all it would think about was the Core.
It was right under his feet—or rather, hundreds, maybe thousands of miles down— but still, it was there, full of danger, and laughter, and hundreds of secrets yet to be uncovered.
School was full of . . . well, school.
Albert yawned and scratched his head with the eraser side of his pencil. He had never really excelled in school, but since he’d learned about the dangers the world really faced (Imbalances! Two missing Master Tiles, and a traitor! His dog Farnsworth’s awful chicken-jerky burps!), school felt less and less
important every day.
“Five minutes remaining,” Albert’s teacher said. Mr. Barnes was bald, and his brown sandals squeaked with each step, like crying mice. Albert looked down at his paper and groaned.
He’d only answered ten of the twenty-seven questions. And not a single one had made sense to him so far.
You’re falling behind in classes, his mom had said to him just that morning, on the car ride to school. You haven’t been the same since coming home from your dad’s house after Christmas break.
Albert put the finishing touches on an equation, not entirely sure if it was even right, and set his pencil down.
This was hopeless.
All around him, his classmates scribbled furiously, trying in vain to finish the test before time was up. Mr. Barnes was known for his brain-busting equations, and sometimes, Albert thought the guy expected every sixth grader to be smart enough to solve world hunger. Or the climate change. With math.
Albert closed his eyes and told himself what he always did. I can do this. He touched the black, rectangular Master Tile that hung on a cord around his neck. How badly he wished he could turn on some of the superhuman brainpower that his teammate Leroy had.
As he touched his Tile, he imagined the Core so vividly, he felt like he was actually there. He could smell the delicious foods that the Whimzies dropped in Lake Hall during lunch. He could hear the sound of the red birds in Cedarfell, singing him to sleep. He could feel the ground trembling. . . .
Wait a second.
Albert’s eyes flew open. That wasn’t his imagination. It was real.
The ground shook again.
He looked around and saw that other students had put their pencils down. Heads turned left and right as it happened a third time. Now the ground shook hard enough that the clock slipped from its hook on the wall and shattered against the hard tile floor.
“What’s happening?” someone shouted as the lights flickered. A poster tumbled from its tacks.
Then a big one came. This one rattled Albert’s skull, and he shook so much that his pencil hit the desk and snapped in half. The lights went out, and everyone screamed.
“Calm down! Everyone just calm down!” Mr. Barnes tried in vain to stop the screams, but nobody cared.
Albert waited it out, telling himself the tremors couldn’t last long.
“It’s okay,” he said to another classmate, a boy with wide eyes who was gripping his desk with white knuckles.
There was a final tremor, one that shook the room so hard that even Mr. Barnes yelped like a startled poodle.
Then the shaking stopped, just as suddenly as it had started. Aside from the fallen clock and poster, it was like it hadn’t happened.
The classroom was deadly silent.
Albert heard the squeal of sirens in the distance, and then the loudspeaker came on. Principal Peters’s voice spoke calmly and evenly across the school.
“Please, remain calm. There has been a minor earthquake. Students, stay in your seats while we wait for the authorities to announce that normal activities can resume.”
The speaker crackled off. Everyone looked at Mr. Barnes, who was wiping sweat from his bald head. Chill out, man! Albert thought. Your head is dripping so much it looks like you’re standing beneath a faucet!
“All right,” Mr. Barnes said, taking a deep breath. “I can see that everyone is a little rattled after that. In light of this, we’ll go ahead and resume the test tomorrow.” He sat down at his desk and mopped his head with a handkerchief once more.
Albert relaxed. He’d lucked out with the earthquake canceling today’s test. But he was worried about something else. Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, careful to keep it hidden. A group text popped up on the screen.
Birdie Howell: Earthquake in NYC. Albert u ok?
Leroy Jones: Albert!?
Birdie Howell: I’m sure he’s fine.
Leroy Jones: He could be buried beneath a hot dog stand!
Birdie Howell: Not funny. And not likely either.
Leroy Jones: ☹
Birdie Howell: Imbalance?
Leroy Jones: Hope not . . .
Albert’s fingertips hovered over the screen, but he was too busy thinking to type out a response.
Because Birdie and Leroy were on the right track. Earthquakes in New York weren’t normal, and when abnormal things of this scale happened, it could really mean only one thing.
His fingertips touched the smooth Master Tile at his neck, and he nodded to himself as he faced the facts. There was an Imbalance.
And that could also mean only one thing.
There was someone causing it.
Albert gulped, a mixture of fear and excitement surging through him. He’d be returning to the Core very, very soon. And he’d have to face the traitor.
Albert didn’t know why, but he knew that the traitor was out for destruction. And if the Core fell apart, then the rest of the world would fall with it.
CHAPTER 2
The Truth Revealed
The rest of the day flew by, and though the conversation in the halls was of the quake—the stories had morphed into the walls splitting and the floor swallowing people whole—Albert knew his classmates would forget about it soon enough.
But Albert wouldn’t forget.
If the Core was in trouble, he needed to get there. Fast.
But it wasn’t spring break yet. Albert’s mom had been lenient enough in the past, letting Albert hop on a plane by himself and fly to Herman, Wyoming, where she thought he was staying with his dad in his little home on the edge of the tiny town.
It wasn’t entirely untrue. Albert was with his dad, but they weren’t hanging out in Herman. They were in the Core of the earth, stopping the worst possible Imbalances from spiraling out of control.
Just a few months ago, Albert had gone to Herman during Christmas break. He’d raced through the snow to the Troll Tree entrance to the Core and joined back up with his Hydra teammates, Birdie and Leroy.
They’d saved the watery realm of Ponderay from an Imbalance just in time for Albert to return back home.
But where was home, now? Albert’s heart was divided, and with today’s earthquake, he was yearning for the Core more than usual.
He looked around at his classmates. There’s a traitor in the Core, causing Imbalances! Albert thought. Don’t you people know this?!
Of course, they didn’t know about the traitor. Neither did the people he passed on his walk home. Nobody did.
That’s why it was so important that Albert stay alert. He had been walking around the city as if the traitor was going to pop out of nowhere and rip the one remaining Master Tile from his neck. The traitor already had the other two. There was no telling what the power of three Master Tiles could accomplish.
Albert wasn’t entirely sure why the traitor wanted to ruin the Core and screw up the surface world in the process, but he knew that this person, whoever they were, was going to strike again. With today’s earthquake, that time had finally come.
It was the only thing on his mind as he sat through a spaghetti dinner with his mom and half siblings and dodged flying noodles as a spaghetti war broke out. It was all he could think about as he brushed his teeth and got ready for bed.
He stayed awake until his eyes grew heavy, studying the Tiles in the Black Book, learning every single one that he could. He had to be ready for the traitor.
He had to.
Eventually, at half past midnight, Albert left his dog, Farnsworth, snoring on his bed and tiptoed down the stairs to grab a cup of milk.
Downstairs, the kitchen light was already on, casting a warm glow into the shadows of the hall.
Albert stepped into the kitchen and found his mom sitting at the table. She had her own cup of milk in front of her, though it looked like she’d hardly touched it.
“Albert?” she asked. Her hair was pulled back in its usual curly ponytail, its shade the same chocolaty-brown as his hair. “What are you
doing up?”
“Apparently, we had the same idea,” Albert said, nodding at the milk. He joined her at the table. “Couldn’t sleep.”
His mom smiled and pushed the cup of milk toward him. “Go ahead,” she said. “You’re a growing boy. You need the calcium more than I do.”
Albert took a big gulp. Cold milk had always calmed his nerves, but tonight, it didn’t have the same effect. He felt jumpier than a Jackalope. His heart hadn’t stopped racing since the earthquake.
And his mind was shouting, Tell her! Tell her about the Core!
But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. If he could just get ahold of his dad in the Core, then maybe Albert wouldn’t have to convince his mom to let him go. His dad would do all that work for him. His dad’s phone had been going to voice mail all day, though. As a Professor in the Core, he must have had a lot to attend to today.
“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Albert’s mom said.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Not much,” he said, because what was he supposed to say?
His mom saw right through it. “You were always a hero,” she said. “You know that, right?”
Albert’s eyes flitted upward. Where was she going with this? “Um, I guess so,” he said. “What do you mean?”
Albert’s mom smiled. “When you were only five years old, you nearly got run over by a bicycle messenger because you were so determined to protect a bird that had fallen and broken its wing.”
Albert laughed. That sounded more like something his teammate Birdie Howell would do.
“And when you were seven, you got sent home early from school for standing up to a bully who stole all your classmate’s crayons. You poked him in the eye with a blue marker! You said you were aiming for his cheek, but . . .” She chuckled under her breath. “My point is, Albert, I’ve always known that you wear your heart on your sleeve. And right now, your heart isn’t here.”
Albert nodded. If only she really truly knew where his heart was: deep in the Core of the earth, where he’d left it the last time he was there.
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at, Mom,” he said.
His mom leaned forward and placed a warm hand over Albert’s. She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “Albert. I know.”