Just picture it. Forty-five years before, there was Jack, just months after leading the trollhunters to victory over the Gumm-Gumms, finding the glow of battle fading as October and November passed into December. To a kid, Christmas is Christmas, and the urge to return to his family must have been overwhelming. Thankfully there was an old song about the holiday known to few trolls outside of their foremost scholar, and Blinky sang it to the little boy while ARRRGH!!! cradled him in her furry arms—their first family ritual. Bonds forged by war are one thing. Those formed by love are something else.

It was easy to climb a troll so still.

The Eye of Malevolence flicked my way at the last instant, the red veins fattening to the size of my forearms and the pupil widening into that tempting pool of darkness. Not tempting enough—I chopped with Cat #6, severing half of its stems. The holiday song cut off as the Eye gobbled in pain and withdrew its tendrils from its host’s body. ARRRGH!!! spat until eye stems were flying everywhere and hitting the ground like bisected worms. With the same paw that had threatened Blinky and Jack, ARRRGH!!! ripped the Eye from her face, along with a great deal of fur. She threw it against a cement pillar, and it hit the ground with a wet splat.

ARRRGH!!! fell into a sitting position, wrapping her hands around the boulder embedded in her skull. Jack hopped onto her legs and stroked her face despite the pus leaking from her eyes and the blood draining from her lips. Blinky, too, slid forward to run a gentle tentacle over the fresh wounds. I lowered myself to the ground and leaned against the sticky pelt to catch my breath.

It was by chance that I saw the Eye of Malevolence crawling like a slug and leaving a trail of translucent slush in its wake. What none of us had realized was that all of the doors to the troll word had shut except one. I stammered and stamped my foot. One of Blinky’s eyes took note; seconds later I had the attention of all eight.

“Corpulent one!” Blinky shouted. “Follow that Eye!”

Tub and I looked at each other.

“Me?” I asked. “Him?”

“Avoirdupois child! Zaftig boy!”

“Him?” Tub asked. “Me?”

“Heavyset! Stout! Husky! Go! Go! Go!”

“Husky! Husky!” I pushed Tub. “That’s you!”

Tub’s expression hardened into a righteous one and he bared his metal teeth. Braying like a sick donkey, he picked up a softball-sized hunk of concrete and charged. The Eye doubled its inchworm speed. As fast as Tub moved—and I’d never seen him move faster—the Eye outpaced him and the tail of its eye stems slithered through the door seconds before Tub got there. The door began to swing shut, but Tub tossed the chunk of concrete and it landed in the door’s path, blocking it.