by Brandon Mull
“Can’t he get in anyhow because of the Games?” Kendra asked.
“That kind of access would require him to travel,” Vanessa said. “And at least it involves a screening process. The shrine would provide a direct inroad to the heart of the sanctuary.”
“What can we do?” Kendra asked.
“We can help this fairy mend,” Vanessa said. “And we do our part against the dragons. Now it is more important than ever that Titan Valley not fall.”
Kendra nodded, then succumbed to her tears. It was so frustrating! How was she supposed to help Bracken? And his mother! What would Ronodin do to them? She remembered how powerful she had felt while wearing the crown. And she was an amateur! Ronodin was an expert.
“Might the fairies rebel against him?” Kendra asked.
“I don’t know,” Tanu said. “Let’s hope so. Much better kings than Ronodin have been overthrown.”
“The demons were distracting Bracken and the Fairy Queen,” Kendra said. “But why would the Fairy King betray them?”
“He was in the demon prison for a long time,” Warren said. “Shackled to the Demon King. That had to have taken a toll.”
“It’s a disaster,” Kendra lamented, shaking with sobs. “Why do we even try?”
“Somebody has to,” Warren said. “This isn’t over. We’ll find a way.”
“Will we?” Kendra asked. “Whatever we do, we keep losing ground.”
“Let’s start with the Harp,” Tanu said. “We need serious firepower against the dragons. Right now, finding the Harp of Ages is our best hope.”
Kendra sagged. She didn’t want to find a harp. She had barely survived her previous excursion into a Dragon Temple. She wanted her brother back. And she wanted Bracken safe. Whenever an impossible situation had arisen in the past, she had always turned to the Fairy Queen.
Now that option was gone.
Maybe forever.
Kendra felt stupid for crying. Her face burned. Her nose ran freely. But she just couldn’t hold back the sobs.
She knew she would go after the Harp. She would do her duty.
But, for the moment, Kendra needed to mourn.
As the sun sank into the western mountains, goblins on stilts used poles with wicks at the tips to light streetlamps along the avenue leading away from the Arena Plaza. Strolling beside Virgil, Seth munched on a giant pretzel.
“You really waited at the gate,” Seth said, using his teeth to rake an oily salt pellet from his bottom lip into his mouth.
“Did you think I would abandon you?” Virgil asked.
“It was a long time to just stand around,” Seth said.
“I kept an eye on the Games,” Virgil said. “I was back and forth.”
“You were just waiting when I got there,” Seth said.
“The Games had ended,” Virgil said. “You really can’t tell me what you learned?”
“Not all of it,” Seth said.
“Do you know what happens when the fallen gladiators disappear?” Virgil asked.
“I know a lot,” Seth replied.
“They don’t die,” Virgil conjectured. “Their lives are somehow preserved, and they start over in the competition at a later date. I assume this is why so many competitors have their faces hidden.”
Seth pointed at Virgil. “That is a really good theory. I’d stick with it.”
“Is that confirmation?” Virgil asked. “It would explain how they never run out of combatants.”
“It’s as close to confirmation as you’re going to get,” Seth said.
“I’m jealous you went down there,” Virgil said. “I’ve dreamed of an opportunity like that.”
“I also ran into trouble,” Seth said. “You didn’t notice a lady with green hair and no arms?”
“Completely armless?”
“Well, one is a nub and the other a stump,” Seth said. “She tried to kill me.”
“With no arms?”
“It’s how she lost one of them.”
“Oh,” Virgil said. “She must be new here. Or else really hot-tempered. You can’t take a life in Humburgh, unless you’re on the arena floor. Then again, not even there, if my theory is right.”
“Unless somebody joins the fight without signing up,” Seth said.
“You’re right,” Virgil agreed. “Those poor saps bleed out.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have revealed that,” Seth realized.
“It’s obvious if you watch those who leap from the stands to the arena floor,” Virgil consoled.
“Did you see the lady?” Seth asked.
“No,” Virgil said. “I’ll watch for her. Will you go back to the coliseum tomorrow?”
“I guess I can go as much as I want,” Seth said. “I’ll have to look out for trouble. Where else can I search for clues in Humburgh?”
“Take your pick,” Virgil said. “The whole town has potential.”
“I wish I hadn’t blown it at the Humburgh Mystery House,” Seth said.
“How did you blow it?” Virgil asked.
“I couldn’t get inside,” Seth said.
“You just go down the side alley to the back,” Virgil said. “They try to make the entrance feel hidden. If you haggle with the guy at the door, you can get in for peanuts.”
“I talked to a woman out front,” Seth said. “She wanted something valuable from me.”
Virgil laid a hand on Seth. “Wait. You spoke with Esmira?”
“A lady all bundled in black?” Seth asked.
“What did you offer?” Virgil asked.
“A turnip.”
Virgil’s eyes went wide. “The hag approached you and you offered a turnip?”
“I didn’t have much,” Seth said defensively. “I hoped maybe she liked turnips. She rejected me and told me it was the last offer I could make that day.”
“This happened yesterday?” Virgil asked. “As in, perhaps you could make another offer today?”
“Yes.”
“You were with Reggie, Hermo, and Calvin?” Virgil sounded excited.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s fetch them and try to re-create the moment,” Virgil said. “See if Esmira shows herself again. Getting admitted by Esmira is the best way to find the Diviner.”
“What does the Diviner do?” Seth asked.
“I’ve never met him personally,” Virgil said. “I’ve tried several times. But if you find him, he helps you locate stuff. Including your destiny.”
“Really?” Seth said. “Is the Mystery House still open?”
“Until midnight,” Virgil said. “We should grab the others. Esmira shows herself infrequently. You should imitate the conditions of her first appearance as much as possible.”
“What should I give her for admission?” Seth asked.
“I’ve heard money always fails,” Virgil said. “Give what you have.”
“Except not a turnip,” Seth said.
“Something of value,” Virgil said.
They reached Virgil’s townhouse, and the satyr opened the door with a key. The main floor looked quiet, so they headed for the stairs.
“Seth!” Calvin called. “You’re back!”
Seth paused at the foot of the stairs. Calvin came running across the floor.
“How was your day?” Calvin asked.
“Interesting,” Seth said. “How was yours?”
“Amazing,” Calvin said. “I went to Humbuggle’s estate.”
“Really?” Seth asked. “Did you get inside?”
“There were barriers to keep me out,” Calvin said. “But I made friends with a maid out hanging clothes. She confirmed that one of Humbuggle’s staff—a woman named Sable—has a little woman like me.”
“It could be Serena,” Seth said.
“That’s my ho
pe,” Calvin said. “The maid caught me and tried to keep me as a pet. I got away, though. What are you up to now?”
“We’re going back to the Mystery House,” Seth said. “Are you up for it?”
“Anywhere,” Calvin said. “Always.”
Seth placed Calvin in his pocket, then climbed the stairs. He found Reggie in the bedroom, standing still.
Welcome back, Master, Reggie communicated.
Seth looked around. “Have you seen Hermo?”
He’s hiding beneath the bed, Reggie conveyed.
Seth knelt down and looked under the bed, but he saw only clutter.
“I know you’re under there, Hermo,” Seth said. “Come out.”
“Dirtman tattletale!” Hermo complained, sliding out from under the bed and hopping to his feet.
“We’re going to the Mystery House,” Seth said.
“No,” Hermo said. “Me stay.”
“You can’t make a lair in here,” Virgil said, entering the room.
“How you know?” Hermo complained.
“Because this is my home,” Virgil said. “You are here as my guests. And if you want to be my guests, you have to help in my research. Come along to the Humburgh Mystery House.”
“Fine,” Hermo said. “Me solve mystery for slowpokes. Then Hermo sleep.”
This time the troll on the balcony of the Humburgh Mystery House wore a striped jacket and a dapper straw hat. Most people passing by did not look twice at him.
“Do you see her?” Virgil asked Seth.
“Not yet.”
“I’ll hang back,” Virgil said. “You should show up with the same group as before.”
Seth approached the alley beside the painted door, and the woman bundled in dark fabric emerged from the shadows. Seth walked up to her.
“Have you a better offer?” the hag asked in her creaky voice.
“Would you be interested in secrets?” Seth asked.
“Depends if I already know them,” the hag replied. “Also depends if I care to know them.”
Seth stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I’m a shadow charmer. I helped Ronodin the dark unicorn and the Underking free the undead from the Blackwell to destroy Wyrmroost.”
“Not bad,” the hag said. “There is value in learning what forces are combining in this conflict. I need more, though. Why have you come to Titan Valley?”
“Humbuggle took my memories,” Seth said. “I want them back. I’m trying to figure out the Games.”
“You want the Wizenstone,” the hag said.
“I don’t care about the stone,” Seth said. “But I need to beat Humbuggle.”
“Much better than a turnip,” the hag said. “You have my attention. Secrets spoil. I need something tangible that you value.”
Seth had retrieved his satchel from the townhouse. He rummaged inside and pulled out a glove. “This makes you invisible if you stand still.” Seth knew he could get many of the same benefits the glove provided by shade walking, but the thought of losing the item still stung.
The hag accepted the glove and gave it a sniff. “Fair enough. You may enter, along with your servants.”
“Me no servant,” Hermo said.
“Then you must provide your own admission,” the hag said.
Hermo glanced at the Mystery House and sniffed, then waved a dismissive hand at the hag. “Me get in own way.”
The hermit troll waddled off into the alley.
Seth looked back at Virgil. “Want to be my servant? It gets you access.”
Virgil scrunched his face. “I’ve been in there several times. Today is part of your journey. Tell me about it later.”
The hag motioned Seth toward the picture of the door on the wall of the Mystery House. Seth reached for the doorknob, and, right before he touched it, the picture became an actual door.
Seth glanced back at Reggie. “Ready?”
I will go where you lead, Reggie responded.
Seth entered and stared down a winding white hall with a bloodred carpet running down the center. The door closed behind Seth, and he turned to find a bare wall with no evidence that a door had ever existed there.
Seth advanced along the carpet with Reggie right behind him. The floor began to tilt until the carpet was on the wall, but Seth’s feet stayed firmly attached. The corridor continued to twist until Seth strolled along the ceiling, as if gravity had been reversed.
The red carpet ended at a yellow door. Seth opened it and found a room beyond, oriented as if he were walking on the floor rather than the ceiling. He entered, and the door closed behind him, making it easy to believe he was indeed on the floor, though he felt sure the room was actually upside down. Exotic potted plants were spaced around the room, as were a few benches and seven grandfather clocks. Seth saw no windows or doors, though velvet curtains masked most of the walls.
The curtains bulged near the bottom on one side of the room, then lifted, and Hermo emerged. “Hi, Seth.”
“That was fast,” Seth said. “How’d you find us?”
“Easy. Me find other way in, then me join you. You want meet Diviner?”
“Yes,” Seth said.
“Over here.” Hermo held up the curtain.
Seth ducked under, then went through a narrow door into a fancy parlor, sumptuously furnished. Seth turned to find Reggie following.
“What do you think of this place?” Seth asked.
This building is old, Reggie expressed. And larger than it seems from outside.
Hermo led them to a life-sized portrait of a young lord in a powdered wig, then pulled it open like a door. They stepped into a small room behind the painting—small until Seth looked up. The room extended upward like a hallway. A red carpet ran up one of the walls, so Seth stepped onto it, and he found himself standing as if gravity was now pulling sideways. With this new orientation, Seth and Reggie followed Hermo straight up the shaft.
Hermo stopped at a tapestry and pulled it aside to reveal a door behind it. “In there,” the hermit troll said.
“You’ve never been here before?” Seth asked.
“First time,” Hermo replied.
“You’re amazing,” Seth said.
“Not amazing,” Hermo said. “This simple.”
“Are you coming?” Seth asked.
“Not as servant,” Hermo said.
“How about as a friend?” Seth suggested.
Hermo smiled. “Okay.”
The door had no handle, but when Seth pressed, it swung inward.
“You first,” Hermo said.
Beyond the door, Seth discovered a large room where a giant pivoted in a pit of sand, carefully making patterns with a hoe. The giant had red, barklike skin and a head like that of a rhinoceros without the horn. Seth gauged that he would come up to just below the waist of the creature.
The high ceiling held a skylight of stained glass, gently illuminated by moonlight. On one side of the room, a pond containing diverse fish and amphibians bordered the edge of the central sandpit. On the other side of the room, instruments were displayed in stands and cases, including kettle drums, cymbals, a xylophone, a harp, racks of chimes, a bassoon, a cello, a flute, a French horn, and a gong, all on a scale to match the giant. Worktables at the back of the room held oddments ranging from clocks to kaleidoscopes to dice of unusual size and shape.
“You found me swiftly,” the giant said in a deep, calm voice. He did not look up from scoring the sand. “Please, come inside.”
Seth, Reggie, and Hermo stepped into the room. Seth ventured to the edge of the sandpit. “Are you the Diviner?”
“We are all components of the same great whole,” the giant said. “Some call me the Diviner. You may do so as well. If you are thirsty, use the pump.”
Seth saw an old-fashioned water pump with a bucket
beneath the spout. A drink sounded good, so he levered the handle up and down until water poured into the bucket, some splashing onto the marble floor. Claiming one of several tin cups near the pump, Seth took water from the bucket and tried a sip. It tasted slightly metallic.
“I haven’t seen a giant like you,” Seth said.
“There are seventeen tribes of giants represented here at Titan Valley,” the Diviner said. “I am one of the Kurut Oi, commonly called the gentle giants.” Setting his rake aside, the Diviner crouched and began plucking pebbles out of the sand.
“You can help us find things?” Seth asked.
The giant climbed out of the sandpit and loomed over Seth. “We shall see,” he said, bending down and holding out a broad hand with ten pebbles in it. “Select a stone.”
Seth picked out a round, smooth, tan pebble. The giant offered the remaining pebbles to Hermo.
“Me no need rock,” Hermo said. “Me find things better than you.”
“Anyone else?” the giant asked.
“Reggie?” Seth prompted. “Would you like to choose a stone?”
Should I? Reggie asked.
“Sure,” Seth said.
The dirtman approached the Diviner. He leaned over the hand displaying the pebbles.
I can’t pick, Reggie conveyed. Master, which should I take?
“He must choose for himself,” the Diviner said.
I’m sorry, Reggie agonized. Decisions are hard.
“Indecision can be telling as well,” the Diviner said.
“It’s all right, Reggie,” Seth said. “You don’t have to choose.” He looked at the Diviner. “You can hear him?”
“There are diverse ways to communicate,” the Diviner said.
“I’ll pick one,” Calvin offered.
“Be my guest,” the Diviner said, holding out the hand with nine pebbles.
Seth took Calvin from his pocket and placed him on the Diviner’s palm. After inspecting the pebbles for a long moment, Calvin pointed out a flat one with square edges.
“Interesting selection,” the Diviner said. “Follow me.”
He led them over to one of the worktables, where he picked up a tuning fork and tapped it against his thumbnail. He held the vibrating fork beside Seth’s left ear, the tone becoming rather loud at that proximity.
