Trollhunters: welcome to the darklands

Chapter 7: SWITCHEROO

"And so, as you can see, this was all just a rather large misunderstanding," Jim continued from under the shady tree in front of his home. "While Barbara—that is to say, my mother—recuperated in the hospital following her concussion, I foolishly hosted a party at our house. A little pre-Spring Fling bash for my fellow students, if you will."
"A . . . bash?" asked Barbara and Detective Scott simultaneously.
Toby, Claire, and NotEnrique seemed just as confused as the grown-ups and policemen who had gathered around Jim.
"Alas, yes," Jim said. "But this turned out to be an unfortunate lapse in judgment on my part, as the festivities soon grew out of hand. Too many guests tried to fit inside, some furniture broke, and, well, we trashed the place. I take full responsibility for my actions and"

"apologize for any inconvenience to you fine, upstanding law enforcement officials."
Jim beamed an unnaturally wide smile at his mom, who stared back at him. In fact, everyone was staring a Jim. Even Draal, who watched dumbfounded from some nearby bushes.
"Teenagers," grumbled Detective Scott as he folded up his notebook. "False alarm, guys. Let's pack it up."
As the police left grumbling, Jim turned to the stunned Toby and Claire and gave them a knowing wink.
• • •
As the sun set, Claire, Toby, and NotEnrique—back in his Changeling form—watched through Jim's bedroom window as the last police car pulled out of the driveway.
"That . . . was close," said Claire.
"No kidding," NotEnrique agreed. "I think I almost soiled meself."
"Me too," Toby said just as the bedroom door opened behind them.
Jim entered quietly and whispered, "I finally got Barbara to take a nap. By the time"

"she wakes, the last effects of the memory spell will have worn off. Even today's excitement with the police will seem like a distant dream and—"
His last words became muffled as Toby and Claire rushed up and embraced Jim. Even NotEnrique got in on the group hug, until he realized what he was doing and let go of Jim's leg.
"Jim! I've been wanting to do this the second I saw you!" Claire said, her voice thick with emotion.
"How'd you get back, Jimbo?" asked Toby, his arms still wrapped around his best friend. "And just how hard did you kick Gunmar's Gumm-Gumm butt?!"
Jim looked down in disappointment. Toby and Claire released him and took a step back.
"Jim?" Claire said. "What is it? Are you okay?"
"No, actually," Jim began. "In point of fact, I'm not even me."
With a heavy sigh, Jim reached behind his head and pulled off his own face. Blinky now stood where Jim had a moment ago, holding a""bizarre tiki-like mask in two of his four hands. Claire gasped.
"Blinky?!" Toby exclaimed. "That was you this whole time?"
"I'm afraid so, Tobias," said Blinky. "I apologize for the deception. I merely wanted to help all of you—and Barbara—in Jim's absence. This Glamour Mask seemed like the best way to do so . . . at the time."
NotEnrique's round yellow eyes looked from the mask to Claire. She pursed her lips tightly, as if she wanted to say something, but was holding back.
"Hey, sponge-face," NotEnrique said in an unusually soft manner. "What's the matter?"
"It's nothing," Claire said quickly, turning her back to them and wiping something from her eye.
"And you were right about that Glamour Mask, Blinky," Claire continued, now back to business. "It'll definitely help cover for Jim at school and home. At least until he comes back."
"Yeah, but maybe Claire or I should be the ones to wear it," Toby said.

"He carefully took the mask from Blinky's hands and examined the bizarre patterns etched into its surface. "No offense, but you use way more SAT words than the average human!"
"Indubitably!" said Blinky proudly.
"Where'd you even find this thing?" Toby asked, turning the mask in his hands.
"Ah, now that is a story worth telling," Blinky said with his usual flair. "You see, once you all shadow-jumped away, I scoured my library for a cure to AAARRRGGHH!!!'s concrete condition. During my research, I stumbled upon a reference to the Glamour Mask in A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore, volume thirty-seven, I think. Or was that volume thirty-eight? No—volume thirty-seven!"
"Cut to the chase, Galadrigal!" NotEnrique barked.
"But of course," Blinky resumed. "As it turns out, Glamour Masks are exceedingly rare artifacts crafted by a Troll civilization that no longer exists. I raced to RotGut's Apothecary and, by Deya's grace, they just happened to have the last known mask in existence. The"

"very mask you now hold in your tender young hands, Master Tobias."
"Finally! Some good luck for a change!" cheered Toby—right before the mask slipped out of his fingers and shattered against the floor into hundreds of tiny pieces.
"Oh, Grumbly Gruesome!" hollered Blinky.
"Um, my bad?" Toby winced in apology.
NotEnrique literally rolled on the floor and laughed out loud. Ignoring him, Claire knelt down beside the mask fragments and tried to fit them back together like puzzle pieces.
"I don't think there's enough super glue in Arcadia Oaks and Trollmarket combined to fix this," she said. "Anyone got a plan—let's see, what letter are we up to by now?"
"Q," grumbled Draal as he climbed through the open window, dusk visible behind him.
"Thanks," said Claire. "Anyone got a Plan Q we can use?"
"No," said Blinky, thoughtfully tapping a finger to his lips. "But I may have a Plan K. . . ."