by Brandon Mull
“A little soaked in dragon guts,” Calvin said. “Are you sure you should run away?”
“I can help,” Eve said. “You’re all new here. Are you really going left? Past Stormguard Castle?”
“Until we get aid from Blackwell Keep,” Tanu said.
Eve clapped her hands. “How thrilling!”
“What do you know about it?” Seth asked.
“So many rumors,” Eve said.
“The castle was here before Wyrmroost?” Kendra asked.
“Long before,” Eve said. “It was originally a secret domain of the Fair Folk. That’s why so many Fair Folk still reside here. Good King Weldon, ruler of the Fair Folk in this part of the world, allowed the founders of Wyrmroost to create the sanctuary around his ancestral home, and the territory of Terrabelle was reserved for the Fair Folk not of the castle.”
“But the castle was cursed,” Kendra said.
“King Hollorix was the last ruler of Stormguard Castle,” Eve said. “He had three sons—Tregain, Heath, and Lockland. There used to be regular interactions between the citizens of Terrabelle and the castle folk. One day the castle went silent. We don’t know what happened. We only know that nobody ever came out, and none who have ventured inside ever returned.”
“Maybe we can ring the doorbell and run,” Seth teased.
Kendra wanted to pinch him for never being serious.
“I wouldn’t risk it,” Eve said. “Those who do a close examination of the castle do not return.”
“Sometimes little people can slip in and out of places unnoticed,” Calvin suggested.
“Not a bad idea,” Eve murmured.
“Are there any guesses what happened?” Kendra asked.
“Nothing that really fits,” Eve said. “There was no visible damage. From one day to the next, the whole castle went quiet.”
“Maybe a plague?” Seth asked.
“If so, it acts fast enough that nobody ever returns with information about it,” Eve said.
“I don’t know of any plague that incapacitates so quickly,” Tanu said. “Some kind of magical curse is the more likely culprit. Which means we should stay far away.”
“How do you beat a curse?” Seth asked.
“Depends on the curse,” Tanu said. “A curse that paralyzed or destroyed an entire castle? You don’t ask how to beat it. You figure out how to avoid it.”
“We have enough problems without chasing after curses,” Kendra said.
“This road will take us right by Stormguard Castle, though,” Eve said. “We’ll get closer than we probably should.”
A griffin whooshed by not more than ten feet above their heads. Eve froze and held a finger to her lips as the creature soared up the road. After a moment it passed out of view.
“Your dad?” Seth asked.
Eve nodded.
“How did he miss us?” Seth asked.
“He should know he won’t find me,” Eve said.
“Did he go blind?” Seth asked. “And the griffin too?”
“I have a talent,” Eve said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Kendra asked.
“All of the Fair Folk have a gift,” Eve said. “At least one. A magical talent.”
“You can make people blind?” Seth asked.
Eve giggled. “Almost, sometimes. I can help others see what I want them to see.”
“What did you make your dad see?” Seth asked.
“I wasn’t focusing on him specifically,” Eve said. “I was covering us so we would blend in with the road to any onlookers. Worked on both my father and the griffin.”
“You never hid off the side of the road to avoid your dad,” Seth accused.
“No,” Eve said. “Griffins are too fast and quiet. How would I have known when he was coming?”
“How long can you hide us?” Kendra asked.
“For a while,” Eve said. “I get fatigued. It’s like running a long distance. The longer you go, the more tired you get. After long enough, I get worn out. And the more appearances I try to alter, the quicker I tire.”
“Can you make me look like a bear?” Seth asked.
“Yes,” Eve said. “Until somebody studied you closely. My gift works best when the things I disguise are only half noticed, blending in with the background. A bear might not be a smart choice, because if somebody glimpses a bear, they will probably focus on the bear.”
“And if they focus on the bear, your illusion fails,” Kendra said.
“Exactly,” Eve said. “I try not to explain my gift very often. It is less effective when people know what I can do. But since we’re adventuring together—”
“And since we caught you using it,” Seth interjected. “What did we look like to your dad?”
“I made us match the color and texture of the road,” Eve said. “Like chameleons. I’m still doing it, because eventually he will come back. There are limits to how far you could have traveled since leaving the feast. When he fails to find you on the road, Father will suspect I am concealing you. He’ll keep after us.”
“Is it wise for you to come with us?” Tanu asked. “We may well get caught on the road for Midsummer Eve.”
“If it comes to that, we’ll take cover in a roadhouse,” Eve said.
“Will a roadhouse stand against a festival night?” Tanu asked.
“It should hold if travelers are inside,” Eve said.
“Against dragons?” Kendra asked.
“In theory,” Eve said. “The road defenses will go down, but the roadhouses should stay protected.”
“Hopefully we’ll receive aid before then,” Tanu said.
“How often will we find roadhouses?” Seth asked.
“There is roughly a day’s walk between them,” Eve replied.
They marched forward in silence for a time. Kendra watched the moon sinking toward the mountaintops. The ghostly forms of dragons continued to drift high above, distant enough to almost feel irrelevant.
After some time, the griffin came zooming up the road again, straight toward them, flying not more than fifteen feet off the ground. Kendra and the others held still as the creature whooshed by not far overhead. Before long it was gone again.
“Your dad is persistent,” Seth said.
“So am I,” Eve replied.
“I’ll vouch for that,” Calvin said. “In Terrabelle, she was relentless until I waded in that custard.”
Unsettling sounds issued from the darkness at either side of the road—foliage rustling, branches snapping, along with occasional growls or strange cries. Kendra kept walking, trying to trust the protective barrier that isolated the road from the rest of Wyrmroost. In the distance, a chorus of distant howling rose to frantic shrieks and cackles.
“What was that?” Kendra whispered.
“Best not to think about it,” Tanu said.
“What?” Seth pressed.
“I know that sound,” Tanu said. “Werewolves.”
“People who turn into wolves?” Seth asked.
“Many werewolves end up surrendering their humanity,” Tanu said. “Human form becomes a rare state, and even in human shape, they behave like beasts.”
“There is a problem with these creatures at Wyrmroost,” Eve said. “Especially in the backcountry—wereboars, werelynxes, werewolves.”
“Were they making a kill?” Seth asked.
“Sounded like it,” Tanu said. “Notice how they have gone quiet now?”
“Are they eating?” Seth asked.
The calm suddenly seemed more sinister than the noise.
“Can we change the topic?” Kendra asked.
“Sorry,” Tanu said, eyes searching heavenward. “Beautiful stars tonight.”
“Hard to look up without seeing dragons,” Kendra said. “Can t
hey see us while we’re camouflaged?”
“If they have been following you since Skyhold, my deceptions won’t work,” Eve said. “If they stop watching, though, it may be a little tricky for them to find us again. I’ll do my best.”
Seth leaned closer to Kendra and lowered his voice. “You have to admit, she could be handy.”
“We don’t want the Fair Folk to hate us, though,” Kendra said. “They clearly don’t want her involved with us.”
“Don’t worry,” Seth said brightly. “They’re always neutral.”
The moon had set behind the mountains by the time the roadhouse came into view. A squat building made of fitted stones with a slate roof slanting down from a single chimney, it wasn’t much more than a cottage. Although it wasn’t their final destination, Kendra felt a sense of relief wash over her. The solid front door was unlocked, and after Tanu lit a little lamp, Kendra was surprised by how tidy it looked inside. The wood floor was clean, if not polished, the glass-paned windows had curtains, and a full wood box awaited by the fireplace. She observed no cobwebs and no dust, and she counted six cots, two rocking chairs, and a table with four chairs.
“Should we light a fire?” Tanu asked. “I don’t think our presence is a big secret.”
“Not to my father,” Eve said, picking up a note from the table and waving it.
“What does it say?” Seth asked.
“That he will come for me in the morning,” Eve said. “I bet he went to deliver news to Terrabelle. He’ll be back.”
Tanu started positioning logs in the fireplace. “We need to get some sleep. Lots of ground to cover in the next couple of days.”
“I won’t leave you,” Eve said resolutely, setting the paper down.
Seth flopped onto a cot. “Can he drag you onto a griffin?”
“I guess we’ll find out,” Eve said, bolting the door. “Want me to take the first watch?”
“We should be safe here,” Tanu said. “Let’s all sleep.”
He poured some powder on the logs in the fireplace and struck a match, and a fire blazed to life. Kendra took off her shoes, peeled back some covers, and stretched out on a cot. The war against the dragons would start tomorrow. What might that look like? Two nights from now would be Midsummer Eve. That would be pandemonium—a total nightmare. The dragons supposedly had a way to win the war. Kendra and her friends had a lot to figure out. Was it too much to hope that somebody besides her would uncover the solution? So many uncertainties. And it was late. Kendra was exhausted. Now that she was at rest, she seemed to be melting away. Her fatigue gave way to dreamless sleep.
Stranded
As Brunwin led Knox and Tess through Blackwell Keep, Knox tried to look in all directions at once. There were dwarfs, and a snake lady with six arms, and torches and oil lamps instead of electric lights, and towers, and battlements, not to mention that he was following a big, shaggy minotaur.
“Are there really dragons here?” Tess asked breathlessly.
“You don’t want to see any of them,” Brunwin said. “They’ll freeze you right to the bone.”
“You’re Brunwin,” Knox said. “The same person who helped me out of the barrel last time?”
“Correct,” the minotaur said.
“You look cooler now,” Knox said.
“I looked human to you before?” Brunwin asked.
“Yes,” Knox said.
“Then of course I look better now,” Brunwin said with a sniff.
“I never met a cow man,” Tess said.
Knox did not manage to completely stifle his laugh.
“Bull man,” Brunwin said, miffed. “Minotaur, preferably. The women are cow women, I suppose, but I would avoid that language.”
Knox followed Brunwin down a hall and into a room, where they found Stan and Ruth Sorenson talking to an elderly Asian man. A large bird of prey perched on the headboard of the bed in the room.
Stan turned to Knox in astonishment. “Am I dreaming? What are you doing here? And Tess?”
“We came to see the dragons,” Tess said.
“And how did you know to do that?” Ruth asked.
“She can see the fairies,” Knox said. “Without the milk. She can see all of it. I finally drank some.”
“Drinking milk does not get you to Wyrmroost,” Stan said.
“It takes a barrel,” Knox said. “You know I came here before.”
“Does your Grandma Larsen know you’re here?” Ruth asked.
“Nobody knows,” Knox said. “Where are Seth and Kendra?”
“That was our present topic,” the large bird said.
“This is Creya the eagle,” Ruth said. “And Marat, former caretaker of Wyrmroost.”
Marat gave a small bow.
“The eagle can talk,” Tess said.
“Creya is a representative from a territory of talking animals,” Ruth explained.
“Kendra and Seth have found themselves in danger before,” Stan said. “But this time they’re at a dragon sanctuary where anarchy may soon reign.”
“Why don’t they just come home?” Tess inquired innocently.
“They can’t, at least not the same way they left,” Stan said. “They had a meeting with the dragons, and their rides were slain. The roads offer protection from dragons, but those protections fail in less than two days, when the sun goes down on Midsummer Eve.”
“The roadhouses would provide refuge,” Marat inserted.
“I don’t like it,” Stan said, folding his arms. “We need to get them home before the solstice.”
“We can release griffins,” Marat said. “But under the circumstances, the dragons may not permit the griffins to arrive. We could also release some of the Luvians on the road.”
“Luvians?” Tess asked.
“Really smart horses,” Ruth explained. “Fast and strong, too.”
“What if the griffins flew low?” Stan asked. “Followed the road?”
“The protection only fully holds if they stay on the road,” Marat said. “If dragons chose to harass them, the griffins would have to run to Kendra and Seth. Over long distances, they would probably be slower than the Luvians.”
“Can I help?” Knox asked. “Last time none of the dragons could attack me.”
“Now you have drunk the milk,” Stan said, “and you know what is really going on here. It was your complete obliviousness that protected you last time.”
“Are there really dragons?” Knox asked.
“You have no idea,” Stan said, sober eyes meeting Knox’s gaze.
“He’s a dragon,” Ruth said, indicating Marat.
“In human form,” Marat explained.
“You can turn into a dragon?” Knox asked incredulously.
Marat gave a nod that included a partial bow.
“Do it,” Tess said, clapping her hands and bouncing.
“Enough!” Stan interrupted, closer to a yell than Knox had ever heard from him. “Kendra and Seth may not make it back alive. This is not a game. The dragons have declared war!”
The room was silent. Taking a step closer to Knox, Tess grabbed Knox’s hand. “Start the Luvians running,” Stan said. “The ones that carried Kendra and Seth before. And maybe two others.”
“Shall we dispatch Henrick as well?” Marat asked.
“Tell him to follow his best judgment,” Stan said. Marat exited the room. Stan turned his attention to Knox. His expression was grim.
“How did you kids get here without anyone noticing?” Stan asked. “I thought Hank put the barrel in the dungeon.”
“I may have swiped Dale’s key,” Knox said.
Stan blanched. “Nobody knew you went to the dungeon? How did you lock the door?”
Suddenly Knox felt worried he might have done something very wrong. “I left the key with Slaggo.�
�
Stan closed his eyes. Knox saw him struggle against anger. “The goblins are not given keys. The goblins are not trustworthy.”
“We need to get to the barrel,” Ruth said, urgency in her tone.
“Yes, we should,” Stan said, hustling out the door.
“Brunwin, with us,” Ruth said to the minotaur waiting outside the room.
Knox and Tess followed Brunwin back through halls and down stairs until they reached the room with the barrel. Stan and Ruth stood in shock. The barrel was gone. The apelike goblin lay sprawled on the floor in a pool of dark blood.
Tess shrieked.
Ruth quickly walked her out of the room, talking soothingly.
Bovine nostrils flaring, Brunwin knelt and checked the body. “Dead.”
Stan was quivering, lips pressed tightly, hands balled into fists. He glanced at Knox.
“I’m sorry,” Knox blurted. “What happened?”
“Hard to be sure,” Stan said tightly. “Brunwin, we need to find that barrel. Until we do, our security is compromised.”
Brandishing a huge ax, the minotaur rushed away.
“Did Slaggo come through?” Knox asked.
“Almost certainly not Slaggo,” Stan said. “He would be no match for this goblin. But Slaggo had Dale’s keys. And a dungeon full of options. Many things could have come through.”
“I’m sorry,” Knox said, a sick feeling stewing in his gut.
“You didn’t know,” Stan said. “I’m sure nobody explained the stakes to you. We’re in the middle of a war against the dragons. If they win, it could mean the end of the world.”
“Not the whole world,” Knox said. “We have guns, tanks, bombs.”
“Humanity would put up a fight,” Stan said, “but the dragons have magic. Think we should chance it?”
“No,” Knox said.
“There are people who want the sanctuaries to fall,” Stan said. “People and beings who want to destroy this fortress. And now they may have a way in.”
“What should I do?” Knox asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He almost wished Stan would spank him. Hard. It would match how he felt inside.
“You can’t go back to Fablehaven,” Stan said. “Not until we find that barrel and make sure the other end is uncompromised as well.”
