Champion of the Titan Games

by Brandon Mull

  “The queen would not reveal matters of highest sensitivity to him,” Dectus said. “But he is in a position to learn much.”

  “And Ronodin can figure out a lot from a little,” Kendra said. “Underestimating him could be a fatal mistake.”

  “This sanctuary is mighty,” Dectus said. “Our dragons are in no position to make trouble. Scattered renegades in the back country remain free, but their liberty relies on hiding. Nevertheless, when a war is brewing, a responsible leader prepares for every contingency, eliminating weaknesses and shoring up defenses.”

  “The Giant Queen does not act interested in protecting Titan Valley,” Kendra said. “Or in helping with the war. She would rather flirt with a spy.”

  “The Giant Queen has little interest in any war outside of her boundaries,” Dectus said. “She knows her sanctuary is secure, and she intends to give any dragons who venture here the same treatment as the ones already in her care.”

  “That might not be as simple as she imagines,” Kendra said.

  “I agree,” Dectus said. “I want to help defend Titan Valley and to support the war effort against the dragons.”

  “What can you do?”

  “Much, if you help me first.”

  “How?”

  “You are new to Titan Valley. Do you know what this fortress protects?”

  “The sky giants? The Giant Queen?”

  “The entrance to Stratos,” Dectus said. “Terastios guards the only gap in the mountainous barrier that separates Stratos from the rest of the sanctuary.”

  “Stratos is a land?”

  “The realm of the sky giants,” Dectus said. “Long ago it floated high above the world, a vast island in the sky. That power was lost, and now our realm is grounded here in Titan Valley.”

  “The sky giants still live there?” Kendra asked.

  “Only we sky giants and our livestock. Animals on our same scale. Vegetables large enough to really feed us. It is where we properly fit. The one place where we really belong. Stratos is our true home.”

  “Do you live in Stratos?” Kendra asked.

  “As a member of the Council, I live here in Terastios,” Dectus said. “But I do have a modest home in Stratos. Immense by your reckoning.”

  “It must be a big land,” Kendra said.

  “Large enough to house the biggest citizens around,” Dectus said. “Kendra, I need something from Stratos. A treasure called the Waystar. I cannot obtain it myself. If you fetch the jewel for me, I can help with your war.”

  “How will the jewel help?” Kendra asked.

  “I have a great work for you and your friends,” Dectus said. “I believe in your integrity. You were the caretaker of a sanctuary. At least two of your comrades are members of the Knights of the Dawn. If you can accomplish this task, I will entrust you with a quest that could alter the war.”

  “Is this a test?” Kendra asked.

  “View it that way if the idea makes sense to you,” Dectus said. “Or else consider this the first phase of a greater mission.”

  “Is the Waystar hidden?” Kendra asked.

  “The jewel is in the possession of Madam Ladonna,” Dectus said. “The chief spellbinder of the sky giants.”

  “We have to steal the Waystar from a giant sorceress?” Kendra asked.

  “Borrow it,” Dectus corrected. “We won’t keep it or sell it. We just need it for a time.”

  “How will I find it?” Kendra asked.

  “Make a fist,” Dectus said.

  Kendra held up a fist. Dectus leaned in for a close look.

  “The Waystar is a beautiful gemstone slightly larger than your fist,” Dectus said. “It will be your favorite color.”

  “How do you know my favorite color?” Kendra asked.

  “I don’t,” Dectus said. “The Waystar always looks like your favorite shade of your favorite color. No matter who you are.”

  “My favorite color changes sometimes,” Kendra said.

  “If that is true, the Waystar will transform to suit your fancy,” Dectus said.

  “Can you tell me where Madam Ladonna lives?” Kendra asked.

  “Easy,” Dectus said. “And I can sneak you into Stratos.”

  “Do you know where she keeps the Waystar?” Kendra asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Dectus said. “But expect it to be on display.”

  “Can I bring some friends?” Kendra asked.

  “Whoever you fully trust,” Dectus said.

  Kendra nodded. With Warren, Vanessa, and Tanu along, she suspected she could succeed. Having help from Dectus with the dragon war would be important, especially since Ronodin had gained the Giant Queen’s trust. The dark unicorn had to be setting up Titan Valley for a fall. Maybe Dectus could help her track down Seth as well.

  “I’ll do it,” Kendra said.

  Dectus scowled. “If you get caught, I won’t be able to help you. I will disavow all knowledge of this conversation.”

  “What will Madam Ladonna do to us if she catches us?” Kendra asked.

  Dectus shuddered. “Don’t get caught.”

  “Would she put a spell on us?” Kendra pursued.

  “Don’t get caught,” Dectus repeated.

  “Tomorrow morning?” Kendra asked.

  “Bring those who will accompany you to my office before daybreak,” Dectus said. “I’ll trust your judgment on whom you select.”

  “And I’ll trust that the Waystar is important enough to risk our lives,” Kendra said.

  Dectus nodded. “It is, if you hope to win the dragon war.”

  If we arrive early, there are extra ways to earn access tokens for the arena,” Virgil said as they moved along the street in the crisp, predawn twilight.

  “You mentioned there’s no rule against sneaking in,” Seth said.

  “As long as you don’t get caught at the door,” Virgil said. “The guards are really vigilant, though. I don’t know a reliable way to avoid them. It’s better to earn admission.”

  Hermo and Reggie remained back at Virgil’s place. Seth had been worried about having to earn tickets for too many individuals. And Calvin had wanted to do some exploring on his own. “Don’t you get in free?” Seth asked. “You’re a researcher!”

  “To some extent, everyone in Humburgh studies the Titan Games,” Virgil said. “Some hope to participate. Others make money off the contestants. Many profit from those who come to watch.”

  “Where do you fit in?” Seth asked.

  “I hope to help solve the Games,” Virgil said. “Without participating. That puts me in the minority. I’m not trying to personally win or to profit financially, either, though a satyr has to eat.”

  “Why did Dante recommend you?” Seth asked.

  Virgil chuckled. “Dante sees one value to me. I’m good at picking winners and losers. And Dante runs most of the betting in Humburgh.”

  “People can bet on the Games?” Seth asked.

  “It’s a big business,” Virgil said. “I’m one of the experts Dante checks with before setting odds. He listens to several of the best.”

  “He pays you?” Seth asked.

  “Yes, to consult,” Virgil said. “I make enough to get by. I pay my way into the Games about half the time. Otherwise I earn free admission.”

  “Why not just bet on the Games yourself?” Seth asked.

  “Gambling isn’t my style,” Virgil said. “It can ruin a person.” He pointed up ahead. “Here is the Arena Plaza.”

  The street ended at a sprawling square with more people milling about than Seth had expected so early in the morning. Businesses lined the sides of the square, some with their doors already open, and vendors were setting up booths and carts. One storefront had an outer wall made entirely of barrels, another was covered in thick fur, and a third had a maz
e of ladders as the facade.

  At the center of a park in the middle of the plaza stood a bronze statue of a centaur battling a minotaur, shields raised, weapons swiping, frozen in a moment of desperate combat. Around the statue stood four modest stone buildings with large doors facing outward. The doors were closed, with a pair of armed guards in front of each.

  Virgil led Seth over to a blank wall between two businesses. “This is one of the most interesting stores in the plaza.”

  “The wall? Are you serious?”

  “I’m sharing a secret,” Virgil said. “Stand right here.”

  Seth complied.

  “Don’t face the wall,” Virgil said. “Face me. Watch my finger.”

  Seth turned so the wall was on his left. He stared at Virgil’s finger, which moved slowly toward him, then to one side, then down, then away.

  “Keep your focus on my finger,” Virgil said. “But pay attention to the wall.”

  Seth fought the urge to glance directly at the wall while trying to stay aware of it. As his gaze tracked the moving finger, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a door that he had not previously seen. When he glanced at it, the door was no longer there.

  “You saw it?” Virgil asked.

  “A door,” Seth said.

  “Very good,” Virgil said. “That was quick. Try to spot it again without my finger.”

  Seth focused in a similar direction to where the satyr’s finger had been, and after a moment he caught sight of the door again. “I see it.”

  “Don’t look at it directly, but approach it,” Virgil coached. “Keep it on the edge of your vision. Walk sideways.”

  Seth kept the door in his peripheral vision and started toward it, legs crossing every other step. He found it unsettling to approach a door he sensed more than saw. He wanted to look right at it but maintained the discipline of looking away.

  “You’re doing great,” Virgil said. “Keep your eyes averted, and then take the handle once you get close enough.”

  After a couple more steps, Seth reached out, his fingers curling around the rough wooden handle. “Got it.”

  “I know, because I can’t see you anymore,” Virgil said. “If you keep hold of the handle, you can look at the door.”

  The door was made of thick, reddish wood, battered and scarred. The handle was meant only for pulling, not for turning. He tugged, but the door refused to budge.

  “It’s locked,” Virgil said. “It will open when the sun is at its zenith and again when the moon is at its zenith. Two different stores, depending on the time. Otherwise, nothing.”

  “That is so bizarre,” Seth said.

  “Welcome to Humburgh,” Virgil said.

  “What does the shop sell?” Seth asked.

  “Different things to different people,” Virgil said. “The price is always outrageous.”

  “Have you shopped here?” Seth asked.

  “Once or twice,” Virgil said.

  “What did you buy?” Seth asked.

  “Maybe I’ll tell you someday,” Virgil said.

  “Should I shop here?” Seth asked.

  “Up to you,” Virgil said. “Not right now, obviously. The sun will rise soon, but there is a long time before midday.”

  Seth released the handle, and the door immediately vanished. He felt the stony texture of the wall, searching for where the handle used to be. He ran a finger along the mortar between the blocks. “It isn’t just invisible. The door is gone.”

  “And it’s still there, if you look correctly,” Virgil said. “Want to go to the arena?”

  Seth looked around. “I don’t see an arena.”

  “You will,” Virgil said.

  “When I look out of the corner of my eye?” Seth asked.

  “This one is different,” Virgil said. “But we need admission. How are you at chess?”

  “I don’t remember,” Seth admitted.

  Virgil pointed out an old woman seated in front of a chess table. “Beat her and she gives you an entry token. No fee to play, but I’ve never seen anyone beat her. Supposedly she has lost a few times.”

  “What else can we do?” Seth asked.

  Virgil pursed his lips toward a fat troll. “Bombus trades in tasks. If you complete one of the tasks, you get your ticket into the arena.”

  “Are the tasks hard?” Seth asked.

  “That depends,” Virgil said. “I usually find them harder than an entry token is worth.”

  “How do you normally get inside without money?” Seth asked.

  “I catch a rabbit,” Virgil said.

  “What?” Seth asked.

  “This way,” Virgil said.

  The sun had crested the snow-topped mountains on the horizon, and Seth stood in a sunken, dusty square toward one end of Arena Plaza Park. Nineteen other participants waited in the square as well, including Virgil. Makeshift bleachers had been raised just beyond the edges of the square, half full of onlookers, some of them eating roasted nuts or popcorn balls.

  A troll wearing a dirty military jacket and a red wig raised both hands, partly succeeding at quieting the bystanders. “Five rabbits,” the troll called out. “Twenty contestants. Each rabbit caught means an entry token to the Titan Games. The contest will commence at my signal.”

  Five rabbits, two of them gray, three white with dark splotches, were placed into the square by two trolls. Seth glanced at the other competitors, trying to assess who might be the veterans. Virgil had explained that people could only enter this contest once per week. He emphasized that the regulars would be much more skilled at catching rabbits than the newcomers.

  “Let the chaos begin!” the troll in the jacket cried, exiting the square up a short ladder built into one wall.

  Contestants rushed at the rabbits, and the frightened animals dodged and darted away. For the first few seconds, Seth only watched. Virgil and a couple of the other contestants studied the situation as well. Most participants were trying to corral the rabbits against the sides, but the nimble targets sprang away too quickly.

  Virgil nodded toward a black and white rabbit that had separated from the others and most of the crowd. He had told Seth that they should work to drive the rabbits toward each other, so Virgil approached from one direction, and Seth hurried to the opposite side. The rabbit bolted toward Seth, who shuffled sideways in a crouch, hands wide and low, like an infielder ready for a ground ball. The rabbit reversed direction, and Virgil lunged, snatching a rear leg and quickly gaining control of the squirming creature.

  “Great job!” Seth shouted. It was the first rabbit anyone had caught.

  “By rule I can’t hand it off,” Virgil said. “But I could release it and help until you catch one.”

  “Keep it,” Seth said. “One ticket in is much better than none.”

  “Remember what I taught you,” Virgil said, running for the ladder.

  Someone in the middle of a mob of contestants cheered, and the crowd clapped as well. There were three rabbits left.

  Virgil had told Seth that without a partner, rather than charge directly at the rabbits, he should anticipate where the rabbits would flee as others chased them. Three bunches of contestants had formed, one after each of the rabbits. Two other contestants worked the fringes like Seth, waiting for a chance to strike.

  One cluster of contestants drove a gray rabbit along a nearby wall, and Seth maneuvered ahead of it. Before reaching him, the rabbit cut toward the middle of the square, and Seth dove, but his outstretched hand came up short. Rising quickly, Seth found another rabbit scampering his way and dove again. This time his fingers brushed fur. The crowd groaned at the near miss.

  Several contestants trapped a rabbit in a corner, and one of them caught it, to the delight of the onlookers. Seth got a chance to dive at a gray rabbit, but it changed direction just as he lung
ed, and he didn’t land anywhere close. As he rose, Seth heard laughs at his expense and noticed some kids pointing at him.

  Slapping the worst of the dust from his clothes, Seth decided that he lacked the experience to succeed with his current technique. He needed to try something new.

  The low angle of the rising sun left one side of the square deep in the shadow of the five-foot wall and the bleachers. Seth moved into the shadow, crouched, accessed his power, and willed himself to blend into the gloom. He could feel it working and knew he was shade walking. Nobody would notice him now without considerable effort.

  Seth waited. Everything now depended on a rabbit coming his way. He could shift around a little, but he knew that when he held still, he was almost invisible. The two remaining groups of contestants could not be farther from him at the moment. If they pinned and caught the rabbits, his strategy would fail.

  The remaining gray rabbit evaded the mob, and then the last black and white one did as well. Contestants stormed in pursuit, and the gray rabbit came directly at Seth, seemingly unaware of his presence. Seth wondered if some animal instinct would kick in, causing the rabbit to dodge around him, but instead it paused near him, head up, ears twitching.

  Seth sprang and grabbed the rabbit around the midsection with both hands. The crowd gasped, and Seth realized he must have seemed to appear out of nowhere. Muscles and bones churned beneath the soft fur, but Seth held on tight. He kept both hands on the rabbit as he climbed out of the depression, using his elbows to steady himself on the rungs. A troll guided Seth to a basket, where he deposited the gray rabbit, receiving an entry token in return. Made of marble inlaid with silver, the coin had “Admit One” printed on both sides.

  Seth stood beside Virgil watching from the side until the last rabbit was caught by a girl who looked no older than twelve. She climbed out contentedly while the other contestants grumbled in varied extremes of disappointment. One husky, bearded man threw his hat to the dust and stomped on it.

  “We have our five winners,” the troll in the military jacket proclaimed. “Congratulations to all of our contestants for their earnest attempts. Don’t walk away yet, because in fifteen minutes, the minotaurs will wrestle. Bet on the victor to make some money, or, if you’re feeling brave and you’re not an ogre, wrestle one yourself to win an entry token!”