by Brandon Mull
“Hello, Kendra,” the Fairy King said. “Welcome back.” He was dressed like a woodsman, with a dark brown cloak.
As he stooped and placed his hand into the water again, Kendra looked around for Bracken or the Fairy Queen. She saw neither, but there were four astrids standing nearby, golden wings tucked behind gilded armor. Kendra realized she was perfectly dry. The Fairy King helped Knox through, then Tess, Tanu, Vanessa, Newel, Doren, and finally Warren. They arose from the water completely dry.
“Look at the birdmen,” Tess whispered loudly. “They’re all muscly.”
“Welcome,” the Fairy King said. “Bracken asked that I apologize on his behalf. He and his mother are combating the remaining demons.”
“There are still demons here?” Warren asked. “After all this time?”
“Regrettably, yes,” the Fairy King said. “Several were entrenched when we took over the demon prison. A few took time to discover. Three major pockets of darkness remain here, preventing the Fairy Realm from becoming whole.”
“Can we help?” Tanu asked.
“I appreciate the sentiment,” the Fairy King said. “I do not wish to put you at risk. You have more than enough trouble to contend with outside of this realm. Come, I will lead you to Titan Valley.”
He guided them into a cheerful forest of tall, slender trees with silver bark and golden leaves. Abundant wildflowers of endless variety served as undergrowth. Shimmering fairies flitted among the blossoms, coaxing more vibrance out of them. Several drifted over near Tess, tittering.
Vanessa pointed. “The moss on that stone is getting brown. Isn’t this supposed to be the undying land?”
The Fairy King gave a nod. “Until darkness is expelled, this realm remains tainted. Sharp eyes will apprehend other examples.”
“It’s paradise, your majesty,” Newel said. “Don’t stare at the nymphs,” he added to Doren out of the side of his mouth.
“Almost paradise,” the Fairy King said sadly.
Kendra began scanning for imperfection amid the beauty. She noticed a few droopy blossoms, but overall the scene came close to a flawless ideal.
On the far side of the forest, the lane emerged onto a brilliant lawn, with flowering shrubs adding variety, along with some colossal sunflowers. In the distance, Kendra observed pillars of dark smoke rising into the pristine sky. Flames licked up at the base of the smoke.
“Those woods are on fire,” Kendra said.
“Now you see what consumes Bracken’s attention,” the Fairy King said.
“The demons are burning down your forest?” Knox asked.
“A great deal of power is colliding to try to expel them,” the Fairy King said. “I believe we will succeed, but it will require time and sacrifice.”
They turned onto another lane and crossed a brook using a bridge that spanned it in a single, graceful arc. Glancing down as they crossed, Kendra glimpsed a pair of naiads swimming upstream.
“The berries on this bush,” Vanessa said, approaching a shrub on the far side of the stream. The small black berries looked grainy. She picked one, and as she rubbed it between her thumb and two fingers, the berry disintegrated into cinders, leaving smudges on her hand.
“Very astute,” the Fairy King said. “This way.”
“What are those berries supposed to be like?” Kendra asked. “Why would that happen?”
“How are a few holdout demons having so much influence?” Tanu asked.
“Something is awry here,” the Fairy King said. “This was the demon prison not long ago. We’re working on it.”
Kendra kept watch as they continued along the lane. She saw so much beauty, the undying glory of spring she had beheld on previous visits. But she also noticed dead leaves, fallen blossoms, and an occasional dry patch of grass.
Warren pointed out a small tree where a few of the branches writhed like tentacles, reaching and curling. Knox hustled over for a closer look.
“Stay back,” the Fairy King warned. “That tree has fallen under unnatural influences.”
The squirming branches stretched toward Knox, but he stopped short of their grasp and moved away. “This place is messed up,” he muttered.
At length they reached a small, clear pond. “Your destination awaits,” the Fairy King said. “Simply walk into the water.”
Kendra looked back at the smoke from the fire. It seemed like the blaze was growing. “Tell Bracken I miss him.”
“I hope he will join you soon,” the Fairy King said. “Please keep all information about this realm, especially our recent troubles, to yourselves.”
“You can count on us,” Tanu said.
“Good luck,” the Fairy King said, backing away.
Kendra got the feeling he had other duties that needed attention. “Thanks. You too.”
She walked into the water. It felt like a normal pond at first, with a muddy bottom, but as the water got deeper, the ground fell away beneath her and she dropped completely under the surface. After a moment of darkness and disorientation, kicking with her legs and sweeping with her arms, Kendra rose up out of the water and stroked to the edge of a different pond.
A colonnade ran in a circle around the pond, the white marble columns supporting a narrow roof that curved into a complete ring. Her companions swam out of the pond as well, Vanessa staying by Tess until they were out of the water. There was no magical drying this time. Newel and Doren sent water flying as they shook their furry haunches.
“Welcome to Titan Valley,” Warren said. The pond was located on a flat-topped knoll, affording them a view of the moderately hilly countryside.
“Have any of you been here before?” Knox asked.
They looked at one another.
“I don’t think so,” Tanu said.
“We’re supposed to find a giant,” Kendra said.
From off to one side, somebody cleared his throat, and a huge head poked up over the edge of the hilltop. “Don’t mean to startle you,” the giant said. “I wanted to give you a moment to get your bearings.”
The giant was a husky man with a bulbous nose. He could almost have been human, except for the massive scale of his size. Kendra felt sure he was bigger than Thronis.
“Hello!” Warren hailed him, waving a hand. “Are you here to bring us to the Giant Queen?”
“I’m Rustafet,” the giant said. “Assistant to her majesty’s majordomo.”
“I’m Kendra, and these are my companions.”
“Welcome to Titan Valley,” Rustafet said. He turned around to show that he was wearing a three-story wicker house on his back like a backpack. “If you step inside, I will transport you to Terastios.”
“Thank you,” Kendra said.
He squatted and maneuvered to bring the base of the house level with the hilltop. Warren opened the door, and the others filed past him. The wicker home had basic wicker furnishings affixed to the ground and walls. Wicker stairs led to the upper levels.
“Latch the door,” Rustafet said. “You probably want to sit down until you’re used to the motion. Some passengers have told me it is like being on a rough sea.”
Kendra found a sofa, and Tess sat beside her. Knox went to a window. Warren latched the door and sat near Vanessa and Tanu. Newel and Doren raced each other up the stairs, each elbowing to be first.
“We’re all set!” Kendra called.
“Hold on,” Rustafet said, standing upright and causing the whole house to lurch. Kendra gripped the arm of the sofa to keep from falling off, and Knox clutched the windowsill. In a few steps the giant reached the bottom of the hill, and the jostling of the house smoothed out to a gentle sway.
“I can’t believe we’re riding in a giant’s backpack,” Knox called from the window.
“It’s a portable domicile,” Rustafet corrected. “Sorry if it was a rocky start—that hill was kind of steep. Should be smoother from now on. Won’t take very long. Sit back and enjoy the ride!”
The alley trolls conducted Seth through the di
m common room to a recessed door blocked by a barrel. One troll moved the barrel aside while the other stepped forward and used a crooked key to open the door. Seth glanced behind at Hermo, who followed at a distance, holding his empty bowl. Seth pointed at the door, and Hermo took a couple of paces back, shaking his head.
The trolls ushered Seth into a short hall with several doors, lit by a few drippy candles. The fuzzy, striped wallpaper made the walls seem gift wrapped, and dusty paintings of distinguished trolls hung in gaudy frames. The alley trolls escorted Seth to the last door on the left. It opened into a musty broom closet. One troll went to the back of the closet, flipped a hidden switch, then slid the rear wall of the closet aside.
Seth and the trolls stepped into a windowless sitting room illuminated only by the flames within the wide fireplace. A stocky troll relaxed in a leather armchair, long feet propped on an ottoman. Short upturned horns protruded from his face and head, and smaller ones thorned the backs of his hands. He had three bony chins, side by side, and heavy-lidded eyes that regarded Seth indifferently.
“Dante?” Seth asked.
“Why bring a hermit troll?” the seated troll asked, his voice almost a croak.
Seth thought about the question. “He’s funny.”
“Unwittingly, perhaps,” the troll replied. “Is he not a liability?”
“He’s the only troll I know.”
“And you wanted access here?”
“Sure.”
The seated troll glanced at his henchmen. “Leave us. I’ll signal when you’re needed.”
The trolls bowed and exited the room.
“Are you the head alley troll?” Seth asked.
The seated troll gave a snort. “I am Dante, but I am no alley troll. Do you really know so little of our kind?”
“I’m Seth. I’ve heard of trolls. I don’t recall meeting any before the hermit troll.”
“You are bold to intrude here unprepared,” Dante said. “And foolish. I am a briar troll.”
“I need some information,” Seth said.
At this Dante gave a chuckle. “Just information? Is intelligence a casual matter?” He held up a hand, displaying a dark ring, set with a black jewel. “Do you know this ring?”
“It looks valuable,” Seth said.
“Indeed,” Dante said. “But the material worth pales compared to the symbolic importance. Do you know who owned this ring before me?”
“No.”
“This is the signature ring of Ulrik the Intolerable.”
“Okay.”
“What does my possession of this ring tell you?”
“It’s yours now?”
“What else?” the troll asked, his expression inscrutable.
“You’re a collector? Black is your color? You killed Ulrik?”
Dante averted his gaze and shook his head sadly. “Ulrik died long ago. He entrusted this ring to me, and it means I know the location of his treasure hoard.”
“Did his treasure make you rich?” Seth asked.
“Not exactly,” Dante said. “No need. It is more valuable to me where it lies. Ulrik was cunning and wealthy, a troll of great renown. Because I alone know the location of his hoard, no sane troll would wish me harm.”
“Or the treasure would be lost,” Seth said.
“My knowledge makes it absurd for anyone to cross me,” Dante said.
“Anyone who cares about the treasure,” Seth corrected.
“Which includes any self-respecting troll,” Dante said. “And anyone else with common sense.” He held up the hand with the ring, fingers splayed. “I carry several such tokens, making me invaluable. Many a troll hopes I pass on some of my secrets before I go. Perhaps I will. Perhaps I won’t.”
“Asking for knowledge can be a big deal,” Seth said, trying to skip to the conclusion.
“That depends on the information you seek,” Dante said. The briar troll lifted a small, ivory container from a stand beside his chair, flipped open the oval lid, and sniffed the contents. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he sagged in his chair, then closed the lid and replaced the container on the stand. “If you ask me what to order from the tavern, I lose little by suggesting a menu item. Then again, I don’t like to waste my time with trivialities.”
“You want to know my question,” Seth said.
“I’d rather learn how I benefit from answering,” Dante said.
“I have information too,” Seth said.
The briar troll nodded. “I suppose you do. The question is whether you know anything that might prove valuable to me.”
“I wonder the same thing,” Seth said.
“As is your right,” Dante said, “though you sought me out.” He gestured to a nearby chair. “Have a seat.”
Seth sensed an element of ritual to the invitation, as if the door to negotiation had been opened. He sat down on the edge of the chair and studied Dante by the flickering light of the fire, waiting for him to speak.
“Why chance a visit to Troll Tavern?” Dante asked.
“The hermit troll recommended it as a good place for information,” Seth said.
“You understand that hermit trolls are rabble?” Dante asked. “Almost vermin?”
“I like him,” Seth said, offended on Hermo’s behalf. He was better company than the unfriendly, self-important trolls he had met at the tavern.
“I suppose anyone deserves their pets,” Dante said offhandedly. “It was dangerous to come. Trolls are not gentle creatures.”
“I really need information,” Seth said.
Dante stretched lazily. “And what stops me from throttling you for trespassing here unannounced?”
“Do trolls waste resources?” Seth asked. “Do you know many shadow charmers?”
“A valid argument,” Dante said. “And the chief reason you remain alive. It was a good spectacle, dousing the torches. You made the others wonder what else you could do, how you might harm them or help them.”
“You saw that?” Seth asked.
“I am aware of what transpires in my tavern,” Dante said. “Tell me why you came to Titan Valley.”
“Will you keep my secret?” Seth asked.
“Why should I?”
“If you want to hear it,” Seth said.
Dante produced a coin and rolled it across his knuckles, first one way, then the other. “I accept that condition.”
“Can a troll be trusted to keep his word?” Seth asked.
Dante’s feet slapped to the floor and he leaned forward. “Are you baiting me?”
“I’m new to trolls,” Seth said.
“To dishonor one’s word is instant bankruptcy.”
“You promise to keep my business here a secret?” Seth asked.
“Done,” Dante said, settling back in his chair. “Proceed.”
Seth knew through Ronodin that most magical creatures were much truer to their word than mortals, so he decided to risk confiding in Dante. “I lost my memory. I’m here to regain it.”
“Why here?”
“Humbuggle took my identity.”
Dante nodded as if the information added up. “Where? How?”
“At Wyrmroost. Inside Stormguard Castle.”
“You disturbed his game there,” Dante said.
“Yes.”
“And you discovered he returned to his former home.”
“I’m here to find him and get my memories back,” Seth said.
Dante shrugged. “Your motivations may differ from the pack somewhat, but in essence you came here for the same reason most outsiders come—Humbuggle and his Games.”
“He has games here?” Seth asked.
Dante gave him a disbelieving look. “You have never heard of the Titan Games?”
“Who knows?” Seth said. “I lost my memories.”
This seemed to satisfy the briar troll. “Humbuggle established the Games centuries ago. Competitors vie for the chance to compete in the Titan Games, with the Wizenstone as the grand prize.”
“This is common knowledge?” Seth asked.
“It is no secret,” Dante said.
“I don’t care about the Games,” Seth said. “I just want my memory back.”
Dante grinned. “How do you expect to convince Humbuggle to grant your request?”
“I haven’t gotten to that part yet,” Seth said. “First I have to find him.”
“You understand that you are talking about perhaps the most elusive and powerful demon in the world?” Dante asked. “The greatest warriors and adventurers have been trying to thwart Humbuggle for millennia. He has the Wizenstone under his control. He is notoriously clever.”
“Do you know how I can find him?” Seth asked.
“There is only one sure way to get close to Humbuggle,” Dante said. “Participate in his Games, and, ideally, win.”
“Where do I enter?” Seth asked. “How do I win?”
“I am often asked for advice about the Games,” Dante said. “Competitors always seek an advantage. The Games are complex. There is more to them than greets the eye. And there is a reason they have been going on for centuries without a victor.”
“I’ll win the Games if that’s what it takes,” Seth said.
Dante gave a nod. “You’re clearly willing to risk your life, or you would not be inside this tavern.”
“I need my memories,” Seth said.
“If I lost my memories, I would want them returned,” Dante said. “But if I had lost them to Humbuggle? I would be tempted to leave them behind and start making new ones. My free advice ends there.”
“What about help I earn?” Seth asked.
“If it benefits me, sure, I could offer extra assistance,” Dante said. “There are those who advise prospective competitors in the Games. Some could reveal valuable secrets. Help with the Games is a common request. Why should I take yours seriously?”
“What can I do for you?” Seth asked.
“Do you have riches to offer?” Dante asked.
“None,” Seth said. “At least not that I remember.”
“You’re young,” Dante said. “You have had little time to achieve much. It’s a surprise that a being of your tender years is a shadow charmer.”
