Penguin Skylanders Novels & Stories

she asked, bouncing in her booster seat with her juice box. Ethan tried answering seriously from the driver’s seat. “Penguins? I think they do have knees but they’re kind of hidden under all the feathers. Science says yes.” I gave her a silly answer instead. “Penguins have invisible knees that only turn on when they’re dancing at secret penguin parties. That’s why they waddle so funny. They’re actually amazing dancers but they don’t want us to know their moves.” Lily laughed so hard she almost spit out her juice. “You’re so silly, Sienna! Daddy, is that true? Do they dance at night when no one’s looking? Can we go see them one day? Please?”

Halo's eyes shine and glisten, but he looks down to see Gael taking a picture with his own smartphone. Gael Slater: Ugh! I gotta get a better camera. This android makes everything look like civil war footage. Halo Noel: Perhaps we should pay a visit to the penguins. Gael Slater: I've been dying to feed a southern rockhopper. Halo chuckles and Gael pouts as he puts his phone away. Halo looks around at the activities around him. To his far left, a figure dressed in a fluffy dolphin costume dips to his knee. The flash of his modern polaroid goes off, and the mascot stands to approach the family of four. Halo taps Gael's left shoulder and the boy looks up at him.

There are penguins everywhere, not locked up behind glass, or kept away from the visitors. No, there are penguins walking around freely everywhere. There are some walking only a few feet away from me. There is a giant pool with rocks and slides surrounding it in the middle of the room. Penguins are diving in and out of the water, and they look so happy. “There is one more surprise baby.” Tyler whispers to me. Another surprise? How can there be another surprise? This is the most amazing surprise in the world. How can there be anything better than this. “What kind of surprise?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of all the beautiful penguins.

Every instinct screams at me to turn back to the safety of the bridge. The canopies of the remaining pods suddenly open, exposing my companions still in hibernation, utterly unaware of the impending danger. The monitors have either malfunctioned, or this is a safety device. I force myself not to panic as my breathing becomes labored from the lack of oxygen. I have almost reached Beth. She stares up at me, and I can see relief in her eyes. There is no time to consider the consequences. I rip out her tubes and remove the restraints. Globular clusters of blood and fluid float upward to the widening fracture and disappear. Beth stretches out a hand, “Skye, help me,” she whispers.