The Traitor of Belltroll

  “Perhaps this is just what the traitor wants,” a new voice chimed in. Trey. “Perhaps we should turn a blind eye. Let the Balance Keepers go back inside and give them something more to help protect them.”

  “The sword,” Professor Flynn said. “It’s time to uncover it.”

  “After all these years?” Professor Asante asked.

  “Not with him,” Professor Bigglesby said. “Not with . . .”

  “Speak ill of my son one more time,” Professor Flynn said with a growl, “and I will knock you into—”

  Suddenly, Leroy sneezed.

  It was a giant, explosive, Troll-sized sneeze, loud enough that his forehead banged against the door.

  Oh, no, Albert thought. The boys all froze.

  There were hushed whispers from behind the door.

  Then, footsteps came their way.

  “Run,” Hoyt whispered, shoving Albert along. “Hurry!”

  They turned and sprinted away into the darkness.

  CHAPTER 19

  Cave of Fire

  This was turning into the longest night ever. The boys spent the rest of it in the Library, poring over books.

  But there was nothing to find. No mention of anyone named Festus, or anything, on the off chance that it wasn’t actually a person’s name.

  After they took a short break to slide down the zip line in the front of the Library, Hoyt suggested they go and ask Lucinda about Festus. She’d been there for decades, after all, longer than any of the boys had even been alive. And even though Albert didn’t trust the creepy woman, she did seem to have a taste for Core gossip.

  But even Lucinda didn’t know who Festus was.

  “I’ve never heard of such a person,” she said. Kimber writhed around her, doing his best to escape, his tongue flicking at rapid speeds.

  “That’s enough of you,” she said to him. She’d taken to wrapping a leather leash around his neck so he couldn’t slither away. “You’re welcome to look through my books as long as you’d like. Perhaps try the Core Family Document? It has the most prominent bloodlines of the Core’s history. Professors, Apprentices, Pures, and the most successful of our workers. Back left room in the Library. I won’t even charge you to look it over.”

  She tossed them an old golden key.

  They checked the Family Document, a giant painting framed in gold. It was at least two stories tall, so they had to drag a wheeled ladder over to climb high enough to read every spot.

  There were hundreds of names dating way, way back to times when the world didn’t even have phones or cars.

  “Look!” Leroy said. “You’re on here, Albert!”

  He pointed to a spot farther down the painting, toward the ground. Sure enough, there was Robert Flynn (Pap), Bob Flynn, and at the very bottom, Albert’s own name in freshly printed black ink. Someone must have added it a few terms ago, when Albert first came to the Core. There were even a bunch of female Flynn Balance Keepers listed.

  “That’s pretty cool,” Albert said, touching his fingertips to the massive frame. “But no Festus anywhere on here. So if this guy or girl was here, they weren’t a Professor or Apprentice.”

  “Or a Pure,” Hoyt said.

  He tapped a little to the left, where the Jackson family line was. And then, beside it on another section, was Petra’s family.

  “Petra Prince?” Leroy said.

  Petra’s face reddened. “Yeah. It’s . . . kinda embarrassing.”

  “Royal, more like,” Leroy said, chuckling. He bowed low to the ground and said, “Prince Petra.”

  “Knock it off, Jones.” Petra swatted Leroy away, but he laughed nevertheless.

  They moved on from the Family Document and continued their search. But after an entire night of examining dusty books, family trees, and crumbling documents in the archives section, they couldn’t find a single thing on Festus. Albert was sure he’d never heard the name before, but something was tugging at him, from the very back of his mind.

  A memory, maybe? He closed his eyes and tried to pull it forth. He even used the Synapse symbol to try and recover it.

  Nope. Nothing. Just my mind wanting to make sense of things. He sighed.

  “We should try to get some sleep,” Hoyt said with a yawn. “We’re going back into the Realm in just a few hours.”

  The three Balance Keepers exchanged wary glances.

  “I’ll keep looking while you guys are gone,” Petra said. “I’ll find it, if there’s anything to find on this person. I’m good at stuff like that.”

  “Thanks, Your Highness,” Albert said.

  “Come on, man!” Petra tossed an old book at Albert, and he dodged it with ease, then turned to leave the Library. Petra waved good-bye as they all went to catch up on their sleep.

  Another round of quakes came with the morning light.

  The warning alarms were blaring by seven a.m., and Albert, Leroy, and Hoyt pulled themselves out of bed, looking like triplet zombies.

  They ate a quick breakfast, then shuffled their way to the Main Chamber, ready to take on the Realm again.

  The Main Chamber was empty, save for three people standing by the doorway to Belltroll.

  Birdie waved hello, and beside her, Professor Flynn and Trey were waiting. To Albert’s non-surprise, it looked like his dad still hadn’t gotten any sleep. His hair seemed grayer than normal, and the skin beneath his eyes drooped like melted candle wax.

  He’s never looked so old, Albert thought.

  “What’s up?” Albert asked when they met in front of one of the winding tunnels. “Came to see us off?” He wanted to tell his dad about last night, how they’d listened in. He wanted to say thanks, to both Trey and his dad, for sticking up for him.

  But he didn’t want to get his team into trouble for sneaking out.

  “You can’t go just yet,” Professor Flynn said, his voice low. “We have to make a stop somewhere first.”

  He motioned for Trey to lead the way. After exchanging wary looks with one another, Hydra and Farnsworth followed.

  They walked on and on, past doors Albert had entered before, and some he still hadn’t. A few doors were hanging on broken hinges, and some of the torches were scattered on the ground, having fallen from their brackets on the wall.

  Farther down, a massive chunk of rock had fallen from the ceiling, taking up most of the tunnel. Hydra had to walk single file behind Professor Flynn and Trey, crawling up and over the mess.

  They passed by Lake Hall.

  The double doors had been chained and locked with double padlocks, and a yellow sign was placed out front.

  “Caution, Hot Lava,” Leroy read aloud. He groaned, and they moved along.

  Everywhere they went, it seemed the Core was damaged. Cracks had spread their way across the tunnel floors and walls like spider webs. One was wide enough that Albert scooped up Farnsworth as they passed by, just in case the little dog got curious and tumbled in.

  Every Core Cleaner was out, trying to repair the damage, but they looked dumbfounded.

  “It’s useless,” one woman said as they passed by. “With every quake, we take ten steps back.”

  “I’m totally sick of this traitor thing,” Birdie said. “It’s putting everyone on edge.”

  “I just wish we could have everything go back to normal,” Albert said. What he wouldn’t give for a term without an Imbalance, where he and his friends could just explore the Core and learn all of its secrets, like Petra could.

  Sadness and fear washed over him each time they saw more of the Imbalance’s effects, and by the time they were nearly to the end of the tunnel, he felt as if a giant fist was squeezing his rib cage, pressing in on his lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

  This had to end. They had to stop this, once and for all.

  “Where are we going?” Birdie asked.

  Professor Flynn turned and put a finger to his lips, and that was that.

  They took a sharp right, heading down a tunnel that had no torches
at all. Farnsworth turned on his eye beams, lighting the way. This tunnel got smaller and smaller, and goose bumps rose on Albert’s arms.

  Finally, after walking deeper and deeper, they stopped before an old, crumbling statue of a howling wolf.

  “Were we followed?” Professor Flynn whispered.

  Farnsworth circled the group, sniffing the ground. When he didn’t bark or growl, Professor Flynn nodded and turned to Trey.

  “This doesn’t need to be said,” Trey told the group. “But the secret of this place must be carried to your grave.”

  Despite the depressing journey here, Albert’s body thrummed with nervous excitement. Trey turned, satisfied, and reached his hand into the wolf’s open mouth. There must have been a hidden lever or button, because suddenly there was a click, and the statue began to move. Dust fell from the ceiling, and the ground trembled a little as the great wolf slid sideways to reveal a hidden elevator.

  “Stand guard,” Professor Flynn said, his hand landing on Trey’s shoulder.

  Trey nodded as the rest of them filed into the elevator. The statue slid back behind them.

  Professor Flynn pressed a button, and as the elevator moved downward, Albert began to hear a strange noise. He recognized it, but couldn’t place it. A few moments later, the elevator door opened.

  They were standing in a cave of fire.

  Not fire, Albert thought, and then Birdie finished the thought for him.

  “Firefalls,” she said, her voice nearly lost in the noise.

  Albert stood there, his neck craned back, as he took it all in.

  The cave was massive, by far the largest they’d entered since coming to the Core. It spread the length of two football fields, towering even taller, with rocky sides all around. There were holes every twenty feet or so, and liquid fire—that was the only way Albert could think to describe it—spilled out of them like water, cascading into a giant river that ran in a strange, jagged pattern all over the cave floor.

  It was like standing in the belly of a live volcano. The falls crackled and popped like massive sparklers on the Fourth of July. Albert stared into the river, at all the shades of the fire. Buttercup yellow, to neon orange, to sunshine golden, to a bubbling, angry, blood red.

  “It’s incredible, Dad!” Albert said. He practically had to yell to be heard over the roar and crackle of the falls. “How did you find this place?”

  “The real question,” Leroy called out, after they finally got over the shock of standing in a room full of actual firefalls, “is why aren’t we all burning to ashes right now? It’s not hot, is it?” He stepped forward, toward the fire river, but Professor Flynn held out an arm.

  “It’s cool to the touch, but poisonous,” Professor Flynn said. “Beautiful but deadly, I’m afraid.”

  Just like the Realms, Albert thought.

  “This,” Professor Flynn said as he stood back, with his arms spread wide like a painter showing off his latest work of art, “is the Cave of Fire.”

  There was a large rock island of sorts sitting in the center of the fire river. Professor Flynn led the group to it over a trail of smaller rock islands. They took their seats on the rock, careful not to get too close to the fire.

  “Why are we here?” Albert asked. Again, he was nearly yelling to be heard, but his dad smiled.

  “For privacy,” Professor Flynn said, leaning in. “This is one of the only places I feel safe discussing the matter at hand.”

  Albert knew exactly what that matter was.

  “The traitor,” he said.

  Professor Flynn nodded, a grave expression darkening his eyes. “Trey and I have been working around the clock, searching for clues. We’ve yet to come across anything. It’s been quiet, since he or she split the door to Belltroll.” He shook his head, like he was disappointed. “Way too quiet.”

  Albert shifted on the rock. “Do we know for sure the traitor has even been inside of Belltroll?”

  Professor Flynn inclined his head. “If a Realm goes out of Balance by natural causes, it’s always evident. We discover the Means, we go inside, and we solve it. Typically, the Core Watchers are able to get that information through their Readers.”

  Leroy spoke up. “We saw those thingies when we had detention in the Heart of the Core last term.”

  “Exactly,” Professor Flynn said as a red, gold, and yellow bird soared just above his head, its long, flaming tail feathers nearly touching his shoulders.

  “Firebird,” Professor Flynn explained as he dodged the flaming feathers. “This time, the Core Watchers are baffled, which leads us to believe the traitor has gone inside. With the quakes, it would be hard to get a read on Belltroll’s vitals anyway, but again, we think there’s someone messing with the Readers. There’s a sort of magical damper that’s not allowing any of the Watchers’ instruments to work right.”

  “That sounds like Master Tile stuff to me,” Hoyt said.

  Albert had almost forgotten Hoyt was there. It was still strange to have him on their team. Albert tossed a pebble into the fire river. “You’ve never been inside Belltroll, have you, Dad?”

  Professor Flynn shook his head. “Only once, long ago. But I know enough to know it’s a baffling Realm. And though we know about the strikers now, finding them may not be easy.”

  Birdie pulled her knees to her chest. “What if we’re wrong about the replacement strikers? What if all that work was for nothing?”

  Just then, the Cave of Fire filled with birdsong.

  It was beautiful, but very different from birdsong on the surface, so melancholy it made Albert’s very soul ache. He had never heard anything like it.

  There were maybe twenty Firebirds, all in shades of red and orange and yellow, their massive wings slicing through the air like living, dancing flames. A single Firebird emerged from the group. It was older, that much Albert knew, and its colors were fading.

  Before his eyes, the Firebird’s feathers changed from red to a dull, sickly gray as it soared by overhead. It landed in a nest beside a Firefall, high above their heads. The other Firebirds continued their sad song, and Albert couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Hoyt wipe a tear from his cheek.

  Albert watched, and listened, as the old Firebird nestled down and closed its eyes.

  Then, suddenly, the birdsong ended. The flock landed on rocks and crags in the cave, little specks of color amid the falls.

  The old Firebird let out a single, solitary note. Low and sad and soft. A moment later, it crumbled into a pile of ashes and was gone.

  “What the . . . ?!” Leroy said, as Birdie cried out.

  Professor Flynn put a hand on Birdie’s shoulder. “Watch,” he said, pointing.

  The Firebirds perched silently for a moment, the roar of the falls the only sound in the cave. Then one bird began to sing.

  It was a high note. Hopeful, and happier than the last. Then another bird joined in, and another, until every Firebird was singing, chirping out a symphony of their own making.

  They took flight, swarming in a circle, around and around the cave over Albert’s head.

  “Now,” Professor Flynn said. “Pay attention.”

  Albert stared at the nest where the old Firebird’s ashes were. There was a flash, a spark, and suddenly a brightly colored bird burst from the flames. It was small, only a baby, and its feathers were blue and purple and electric green. It shot upward, testing its wings, and its tail feathers unfurled like ribbons.

  “Whoa!” Albert and Hoyt said together. The look on Birdie’s face said the same thing.

  It was Leroy who spoke up. “The Firebird,” he said. “You mean, like a phoenix, right? They rise from their own ashes, born again.”

  “Close,” Professor Flynn said. “In the Core, the Firebird takes on new color, and new life, and is stronger every time. It’s a sign,” he said as they watched the blue bird join in the song, finally soaring on its new wings. “There is always hope in the Core. Always a new beginning, and light after the darkness.”
>
  He placed his hand on Albert’s shoulder, then looked pointedly at all of Team Hydra.

  “You will do better today in Belltroll. You will find the other two strikers and you’ll save the Core. I’ve never doubted your team, and I won’t start doubting now.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Albert asked.

  There was a traitor they couldn’t find or catch. A Realm they’d already failed in. And the worst Imbalance they’d ever seen.

  But his dad’s face lit with a grin, and he looked into Albert’s emerald eyes.

  “The traitor might be strong,” he said. “But you four have light, and goodness, in your hearts. That always overcomes the darkness in the end.”

  Albert held his dad’s gaze. Any other time, that line would have sounded super cheesy, but right now, it was just what Albert needed to hear. He could feel his teammates relax a bit, too.

  Professor Flynn reached into his jacket and produced a gleaming black short sword, as long as Albert’s forearm. It was as black as the Master Tile, like solidified oil.

  “The rest of the Core thinks this sword was lost to us, long ago. Not even the Apprentices know of its existence. It was made by the very same substance your Tiles were made from,” Professor Flynn said. “It has magic in its very center, just like the Tiles. Like the Core. The Professors and I have decided you need to keep it with you, Albert. The CoreSword may be able to keep you safe when nothing else can.”

  He held the sword out, handle first.

  It shimmered in the light of the firefalls. Albert reached out, his fingertips itching to touch it.

  “This is for me?” he asked. He gripped the handle of the sword. It felt like it was made for him, a perfect fit, and strangely lightweight, seemingly made of the same material as his Master Tile. Energy buzzed through his fingertips, and suddenly Albert had a vision of himself holding the sword at the peak of Troll Mountain, facing the traitor. Winning.

  Why me, though? Albert thought. The question was still tugging at him, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring it up in front of his friends.

  His dad seemed to sense Albert’s question, but before he could speak, another quake shook the Core. Albert’s instincts took over, and he grabbed his friends’ arms. They all held tight, leaning on each other so they wouldn’t topple into the fire.