by Brandon Mull
Seth cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Are you all right?”
“I am just fine,” Celebrant assured him. “Don’t let me distract you from the meal. The wound is ugly but shallow.”
Kendra turned her attention to the food. She had not been sure what to expect at a dragon feast, but to her relief the fare on the table was not an assortment of bugs or bizarre unmentionables but rather beef, chicken, potatoes, cheese, bread, squash, and soup. She sampled most of it—the meats and vegetables were heavily seasoned but still tasty, the cheese was a little too sharp, the bread was warm and delicious, and the soup tasted like some kind of gooey, creamy punishment.
She was taking a bite of bread when a bugle blared.
“Creya the Eagle, standing in for Raj Faranah of the Zowali Protectorate,” the goblin announcer called.
A large golden eagle glided to a halt beside Kendra, perching on the back of Lord Dalgorel’s chair. “Hello, Dalgorel,” the eagle said in a female voice. “Raj sends his regards.” The bird looked down at Kendra. “You must be the new caretaker.”
“I’m Kendra, and this is my brother, Seth,” Kendra said.
“You’re wearing the medallion, Kendra,” Creya said.
“My turn today,” Kendra said. “We switch off.”
“She’s a proper caretaker,” Karzal said from across the table. “Speaks Gnomish.”
“Did I miss anything?” Creya asked.
Dalgorel chuckled. “Take a look at Celebrant.”
“Sweet mercy!” Creya exclaimed. “What happened to him?”
“Madrigus,” Dalgorel said.
“No—he’s one of their top dragons. He’s part of his guard.”
“Challenged him tonight,” Dalgorel said. “In front of us.”
“I missed it?” Creya complained. “Events like this tend to be dry.”
“Not to a discerning eye,” Dalgorel said. “The currents of politics are always swirling. Tonight certainly had some extra thrills.”
“Somebody finally injured Celebrant,” Creya said.
“It’s the beginning of the end for him,” Dalgorel said.
“Really?” Kendra asked.
“No time soon, mind you,” Dalgorel clarified. “But now he has been challenged by a real contender, and he has been hurt. The scales will grow back, but the memory is forever. Kendra started it all by standing up to him. Authority can be fragile.”
“Have you met the other leaders of the protected territories?” Creya asked Kendra.
“All but Amulon,” Kendra said.
“He’s down at the end of the table,” Dalgorel said. “I believe he arrived during the challenge. He’s speaking with Bag Zou, chief of the western cyclopses.”
Kendra saw the rumitaur standing beside the table, gnawing on a hunk of cheese, large antlers projecting from his head and forking to many points. His light-brown skin nearly matched the hide of his elk body. Beside him on a low, wide stool sat a hulking man dressed in a primitive tunic, with shaggy hair and a single prominent eye above his nose.
“Are there eastern cyclopses too?” Kendra asked.
“Not here at Wyrmroost,” Dalgorel explained. “There are different breeds of cyclopses—eastern, western, and Mediterranean.”
“And Himalayan,” Eve piped up.
“I’m talking about the major groupings,” Dalgorel said.
“The Himalayan cyclopses are the most fascinating,” Eve said. “Their one eye is a third eye.”
“They are physically blind,” Dalgorel said. “Or so the story goes.”
“They see with their minds,” Eve said.
“You should go meet Amulon,” Creya encouraged. “You need all the support you can get.”
Kendra glanced at Seth, who was busy talking to Karzal. It might be best not to disturb her brother. In his current mood, he might provoke a war with the rumitaurs.
Kendra rose and walked along the table until she reached Amulon. He stood at least as tall as Henrick, and the looming antlers made him extra imposing. His neck and shoulders were particularly muscular.
“Excuse me,” Kendra said. “I’m Kendra Sorenson.”
The rumitaur looked down at her. “The child caretaker,” he said. “A bizarre novelty.”
Bag Zou twisted on his stool to view her. If he stood, Kendra estimated he would be twice her height. He patted his broad belly. “I’ve eaten mouthfuls larger than you tonight,” he said in a voice so deep it made the words hard to understand.
“I don’t mind being underestimated,” Kendra said, offended by their condescension. “Celebrant did that, and now he’s missing scales.”
“The dragon broke the scales,” Bag Zou said, huge hand resting on his knee. Kendra noticed how tiny his fingernails were, the ends ragged as if he chewed them.
“If you say so,” Kendra replied.
“The girl is not wrong,” Amulon said. “She defied Celebrant on the walls of Blackwell Keep. Undermined him.”
Bag Zou blinked. Winked? “I could squish her on a whim.”
“Not tonight,” a new voice said. “You would die before your fist could fall.”
Kendra turned and found a handsome young man behind her, maybe a couple of years older than her. He had thick dark hair, intense dark eyes, and a strong jawline. His dressy black robe of Asian design fit snugly and had subtle touches of embroidery at the neck, near the wrists, and around the fancy buttons. Was he one of the Fair Folk? He didn’t look quite as perfect as them—his nose was a bit crooked, as if it had been broken once or twice, and he had a faint scar through one eyebrow. The little flaws almost made him even more attractive.
“Who’s going to stop me?” Bag Zou asked. “You?”
“Dragons,” he replied simply. “Kendra is under the care of dragons tonight. And she runs this sanctuary. You ought to show her more respect. It was generous of her to introduce herself.”
“Kendra, I am Amulon,” the rumitaur said. “Good luck surviving your assignment.”
The cyclops turned back to the table.
“Bag Zou,” the young man said. “Where is your introduction? You’re being rude.”
The cyclops turned. “Am I supposed to know you?”
“You are supposed to know Kendra,” the young man said with a grin. “She oversees everyone and everything here.”
The cyclops rolled his eye. “Celebrant leads the dragons because he vanquishes all who challenge him. I am chief of my tribe through victories in combat. Kendra is a child nominated by a wizard.”
“She could teach you plenty,” the young man said. “Beginning with depth perception.”
Kendra managed to stifle her laugh.
The cyclops stood menacingly. He was easily twice as tall as Kendra. “Are you under protection from the dragons, little man?”
“I am not,” the young man said. His grin did not falter. “Would you like to step outside with me?”
“You read my mind,” Bag Zou said.
Amulon placed a staying hand on Bag Zou’s chest. “Do you know who you are addressing?”
Bag Zou glanced at Amulon. “Does it matter?”
“How many humans are at Wyrmroost?” Amulon asked.
“Very few,” Bag Zou said.
“When did this one arrive?” Amulon asked.
“I did not notice his arrival,” Bad Zou said.
“Some dragons can take human shape,” Amulon said.
The cyclops paled.
“An introduction is owed,” the young man said.
“I am Bag Zou of the western cyclopses,” Bag Zou said. “Stay off our land or we will stomp you into wine.”
“Not polite,” the young man said. “But you are a cyclops. Manners are not to be expected. Shall we lighten the mood? What does a cyclops call an eye patch?”
/> “What?” Bag Zou asked.
“A blindfold.”
“I’m here to eat,” Bag Zou said, turning back to the table and sitting. Before his backside reached his stool, the young man nimbly slid it out of the way, and the cyclops fell flat on his back. The brute sat up, huge fists balled tight, face reddening. “You try my patience.”
The young man leaned toward him and flicked his nose. “Manners.”
The cyclops ground his teeth. “I have protection from dragons here tonight.”
“Who says I’m a dragon?” the young man asked.
“Amulon,” the cyclops said.
“Want to go outside and find out?” the young man asked.
The cyclops took a deep breath, huge chest rising and falling. “Off with you, pest. The meat is calling.” The cyclops situated his stool and kept a hand on it as he sat.
The young man nodded at Amulon and led Kendra back toward her seat.
“Are you a dragon?” Kendra whispered nervously.
“Absolutely not,” the young man said. “Don’t be absurd.”
“Then who are you?”
The young man stopped. “I insisted on introductions and failed to provide my own.” He bowed. “I am Ronodin, known to some as the dark unicorn.”
Kendra stared at him in shock. Bracken had been looking for Ronodin!
“You look surprised,” Ronodin said. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Kind of,” Kendra said, not wanting to give anything away. Was he like Bracken? Could he see her mind?
“I know plenty about you,” he said. “I captured your boyfriend.”
Shock gave way to anger. “Where is he?”
“There is some fire,” Ronodin said. “Yes, I see it now. Bracken is alive and well.”
“Where?”
“It would be clumsy to tell you,” Ronodin said. “He is my prisoner, and you wish to rescue him.”
“Why are you here?”
“We all have secrets. And reasons. And many of us have earlobes.”
“Are you trying to be funny?”
“No,” Ronodin said. “I am succeeding.”
“I’m disappointed,” Kendra said. “You were nice back there. You were gallant.”
Ronodin shrugged. “I was trying for rude. Cyclopses are the worst.”
“I thought you were sticking up for me.”
“I was, I suppose, no use pretending otherwise.”
“And you took Bracken.”
“I do whatever I want.”
“You sound like a child,” Kendra said.
“I am unshackled.”
“What do you want from me?”
“He was right about you,” Ronodin said. “You shine bright. I’ve never shone as bright as you.”
“Some people say that. I don’t see it.”
“How charming. You have his first horn.”
“What?”
“Is anything more tedious than when people pretend? You have it with you right now. I am not guessing. Will you give it to me?”
“Are you kidding?” Kendra asked.
“I’d trade a lot for it,” Ronodin said.
“Give me Bracken,” Kendra said.
“No, I need Bracken. But I would give so much for that horn.”
“I wouldn’t trade it to you for anything.”
“Don’t be hasty. I may not look like much, but I have a lot to offer. I can turn into a horse. With a horn.” He scowled. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“One horn. Does that mean I have something in common with cyclopses? Did I mention they are the worst?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re the worst.”
Ronodin smiled. “In some ways, maybe. Yes, in some ways I am worse than any cyclops would dare to dream. I’ll take your insult as a compliment.”
“It’s not a compliment,” Kendra said.
“Looking at me now, doesn’t it seem absurd that I can turn into a horse? Not just any horse—a unicorn. Ridiculous, if you ask me. But when I’m a unicorn, taking a human shape seems equally absurd. No, more absurd. Tottering around on two legs.”
“Why are you here?” Kendra asked. “Just to bother me?”
“You have little to do with why I’m here,” Ronodin said. “Bothering you is a happy accident. Life can be generous some days. But watch out—the price of living is pain. Same price as loving.”
“You don’t live at Wyrmroost?” Kendra asked.
Ronodin made a disgusted face. “Absolutely not. I go wherever I want, do whatever I want.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Since you keep asking, I’ll answer as a courtesy. I told Celebrant how to defeat you.”
Kendra was worried he was serious. “How?”
“No,” Ronodin said. “Nothing more on that subject. Not if you ask a hundred times. Unless you choose to give me the horn.”
“I’m keeping the horn,” Kendra said.
“Then I’m keeping my secrets,” Ronodin said. “You better get back to your seat. Looks like Celebrant has a big announcement to make.”
Kendra gave him one last stare. Why did he have to be so handsome? It seemed incongruent. She returned to her seat.
“Who was that guy?” Seth asked. “He’s still watching you. Now he’s watching me.”
“He’s Ronodin, the dark unicorn,” Kendra said.
“How do dark sparkles work?” Seth asked.
“It’s no joke,” Kendra said. “He has Bracken.”
“Should we beat him up?” Seth asked.
“Maybe,” Kendra said. “Where is Tanu?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Seth said.
“My guests,” Celebrant began, standing tall on his platform. “I hope you enjoyed your meal. We now begin the more solemn portion of the gathering. As you know, I am a co-caretaker of Wyrmroost, along with Kendra and Seth Sorenson. We have reached an impasse about how to jointly run this sanctuary. And so, as king of all dragons, and as a co-caretaker of Wyrmroost, I find my human counterparts out of line, and I formally declare war on them and on all who support them.”
Murmuring broke out along the table. Kendra glanced at Seth, finding her own shock and worry echoed in his features. She looked back at Ronodin, who smiled and nodded, then pointed at Celebrant.
“This war has been centuries in the making,” Celebrant continued. “Magical creatures have been repressed and abused by humanity for far too long. The hour has come for us to govern ourselves. All of the creatures of Wyrmroost are invited to unite with our cause. Any who do so will be rewarded. Those who resist will be crushed. We invite our human overlords, if they so choose, to depart in peace and leave us to govern ourselves. Otherwise they will be destroyed.”
Kendra glanced at Dalgorel, who frowned deeply, eyes on Celebrant. Did his long-established policy of neutrality mean he would continue to avoid choosing sides?
“I give the citizens of Wyrmroost two days to sort out their allegiances,” Celebrant went on. “I give my enemies the same two days to prepare. And then it is open war until a victor emerges. Make no mistake. The dragons will prevail. Soaring Cliffs has already fallen to the dragons, and I learned earlier tonight that Crescent Lagoon, the island sanctuary, has fallen as well.”
There was another stir as those present reacted to the news. Kendra noticed the dragons around the room studying them, somewhat like hungry cats watching mice.
“Thank you for your attention,” Celebrant said. “You are welcome to depart. Unfortunately, some hill giants broke into our stables tonight during the festivities. Several mounts were killed, including the griffins from Blackwell Keep. The giants have paid for their effrontery with their lives. I apologize for any inconvenience their senseless attack has caused. Of course, the road remains availabl
e to all who must make their way home.”
Homeward Bound
Seth left his seat and went to Dalgorel. “What does war mean?” he asked. “What can they do?”
“It’s without precedent here at Wyrmroost,” Dalgorel said. “The protective barriers should continue to hold. I believe Celebrant is trying to justify uniting your enemies against you and attacking anyone who opposes him.”
“The griffins,” Kendra mourned. “Sheba. Sage. Titan.”
“Treacherous and shrewd,” Dalgorel said. “Your mounts were in the care of the dragons without being under their direct protection. The dragons needed to defend you from any enemies, but they only needed to take reasonable precautions with your mounts. They can blame the hill giants for the slayings.”
“Celebrant must have set it up,” Seth said.
“No question,” Dalgorel said.
“Can we get home safely?” Kendra asked. “Do protected roads go all the way?”
“There are protected roads,” Dalgorel said. “You could possibly make it.”
Seth glanced over at the dark unicorn, who continued to watch them from a distance. “What is Ronodin doing here?” Seth asked.
“He supposedly told Celebrant how to defeat us,” Kendra said.
“The gnomes will stand with the girl who speaks Gnomish,” Karzal said, stepping over the top of the table on short legs and extending a hand to Kendra. She shook it. “Many dragons consider gnomes a delicacy. They eat us like candy.”
“What about the Fair Folk?” Seth asked.
“You know our policy, Seth,” Dalgorel said. “Neutrality in all outside matters.”
“Nobody is ever really neutral,” Seth said.
“In most practical ways we come close,” Dalgorel said. “Neutrality is a choice. It has dangers. A big risk is that neutrality leaves us without allies. And that is our choice.”
“What about the animals?” Kendra asked the eagle.
“I cannot speak for Raj in this,” Creya said. “But the Zowali Protectorate has always sided with the caretakers at Blackwell Keep.”
“The territories will not openly fight you,” Dalgorel said. “Amulon will probably remain neutral, unless he should desperately need help, and Vatka is tough to read.”
