by Brandon Mull
“I am slow to dislike anyone,” Marat said. “Disliking someone is almost as big a commitment as loving someone, and it carries none of the benefits. I have mixed feelings about the Fair Folk. I find it a challenge to respect capable people who care only for their own interests.”
“I have heard vague rumors of the Fair Folk,” Grandpa Sorenson said. “Stories about them get entwined with fairy lore.”
“They are not fairies,” Marat said. “They are roughly the size of humans, and they lack wings.”
“Who would know?” Grandpa said. “The Fair Folk are seen less frequently than unicorns. They are true mysteries even to those of the magical community.”
“Unless you are the caretaker of a dragon sanctuary,” Marat said. “Each of the dragon sanctuaries contains a settlement of Fair Folk. It is not common knowledge. The three biggest settlements are at the three secret sanctuaries—the ones with Dragon Temples, like Wyrmroost. By tradition, any new caretaker of Wyrmroost gets approved by the leader of the Fair Folk before the formal appointment to office. Celebrant compelled me to skip that step. As caretakers, Kendra and Seth must be introduced to Lord Dalgorel, leader of the Fair Folk at this sanctuary.”
“Will he come here?” Grandma asked.
Marat shook his head. “The Fair Folk never leave their settlements. They are completely self-sufficient and refuse to take any action that could jeopardize their safety or their neutrality.”
“You can get Kendra and Seth there safely?” Grandpa asked.
“Five roads in Wyrmroost share the same protections as Blackwell Keep,” Marat said. “The High Road leads directly from Blackwell Keep to Terrabelle, the Fair Folk settlement.”
“Where were those roads when we visited last time?” Kendra complained.
“If I recall correctly,” Marat said, “last time you were not official guests of the sanctuary. And you made your way to the Dragon Temple, far from any of the roads.”
“The defenses of Blackwell Keep show signs of failing,” Grandma said. “Is the same true for the roads? This excursion would take Kendra and Seth far from the barrel back to Fablehaven.”
“The High Road links two secure locations,” Marat said. “It therefore enjoys the same magical protections afforded to Terrabelle as well as the safeguards of Blackwell Keep. The defenses of Terrabelle have shown no sign of faltering. In effect, your grandchildren will be safer on the High Road and in Terrabelle than here at the keep.”
“Then why don’t they stay at Terrabelle instead?” Grandma asked.
“Neutrality,” Grandpa said.
Marat nodded. “The Fair Folk would never grant long-term sanctuary to outsiders. As I mentioned, they could not be more committed to their neutrality.”
“How are their defenses better than here at the keep?” Seth asked.
“The Fair Folk possess one of the Seven Scepters of Wyrmroost,” Marat said. “Each scepter establishes a protected sovereign territory within Wyrmroost. Even if the sanctuary fell, the territories with scepters could still stand.”
“Didn’t you say Celebrant got the scepter that used to be at Blackwell Keep?” Kendra asked.
“Yes,” Marat said.
“Could that be the problem with our defenses?” Kendra asked.
“One would suppose,” Marat said. “But the medallion wields equal power with the scepter. The scepter at the keep was a redundancy.”
“Can the medallion leave the keep without messing up the defenses?” Seth asked.
“So long as it remains in the possession of the caretaker,” Marat said. “The medallion has some safeguards built in. For example, if you are captured, Seth, simply say, ‘medallion, medallion, medallion, return,’ and the medallion will teleport back to the vault here inside the keep. The medallion will also teleport to the vault if you are slain.”
“So I’ll wear the medallion when we visit the Fair Folk?” Seth asked.
“The medallion is meant to be worn always,” Marat said. “Send it back to the keep only in the event of a great emergency.”
“When should they visit Terrabelle?” Grandma asked.
“I hoped to send them this afternoon,” Marat said. “It is already an offense that the Fair Folk were not consulted before the appointment was made. We should introduce Kendra and Seth as soon as possible.”
“You won’t come?” Seth asked.
“No dragon would be welcome inside Terrabelle unless he was also the caretaker. Henrick will accompany you.”
“What about Grandma and Grandpa?” Kendra asked.
“Best if you go alone,” Marat said. “The Fair Folk know Henrick. As gamekeeper of Wyrmroost he is the only person who enjoys the same access as the caretaker. Any extra visitors strain their hospitality, and we’ve already insulted them.”
“Makes sense,” Grandpa said.
“Presenting a pair of youngsters as the new caretakers has a chance to arouse pity,” Marat said. “Perhaps the Fair Folk will show mercy to them. Kendra, Seth, your first mission is to apologize for getting installed as the new caretakers without their permission. Second is to see if they have ideas as to why the defenses of Blackwell Keep are becoming unstable.”
“Wouldn’t help with that matter violate their neutrality?” Grandpa asked.
“To a degree,” Marat said. “But the Fair Folk have been known to share useful information in the past. It’s worth a try.”
“We’re at a big disadvantage,” Seth said. “If these folk are really fair, they’ll help us.”
“Not that kind of fair,” Kendra said.
“Oh,” Seth asked. “Are they so-so? Average?”
“Not that either,” Kendra said.
“Fair like a carnival?” Seth asked. “With cotton candy?”
Kendra rolled her eyes. “Fair as in beautiful.”
“Hopefully at least they will approve of you,” Marat said. “Their opinion carries weight across the sanctuary. It could make the inhabitants more accepting of you two as caretakers. Or, conversely, it could influence some of those who dwell here to be unhelpful. With your youth and inexperience, you can use all the help you can get.”
“Can Mendigo come?” Kendra asked.
“Mendigo lacks a will,” Marat said. “This makes him more of a tool than an additional entity. His presence should not be a problem.”
“What about me?” piped up Calvin. “If Kendra has her bodyguard, Seth should have his.”
Seth took the Tiny Hero from his pocket.
Marat drew near and stared at Calvin. “You wish to join Kendra and Seth?”
“I’ve always wanted to meet the Fair Folk,” Calvin said. “They are mentioned in some of our oldest tales, but I’ve never had the pleasure.”
Marat stroked his goatee. “The Fair Folk do not appreciate outsiders. But they do enjoy novelties. There are no nipsies at Wyrmroost. Your kind are very rare. And as a matter of fact, Lord Dalgorel’s daughter, Eve, has a particular interest in uncommon creatures, and your size lends you a certain innocence. You could probably accompany them.”
“They might gawk at you,” Seth warned.
“Probably,” Marat said.
“Small price to pay,” Calvin said with a smile.
“Kendra, Seth, how does this mission sound to you?” Grandpa asked. “You are the caretakers. Ultimately we are just your advisers.”
“Seems like we should go,” Kendra said.
“Right,” Seth agreed.
Marat gave a small bow. “I’ll send a message to the Fair Folk to confirm an audience with Dalgorel. Expect Henrick to come for you shortly after midday.”
“What should we do in the meantime?” Seth asked.
“The sooner you get to know the staff, the better,” Grandpa said.
“I agree,” Marat said. “Your success gaining respect as legitimate caretakers must b
egin here.”
Luvians
Kendra and Mendigo met Henrick in the courtyard near the stables. The alcetaur had a huge bow over his shoulder, a quiver of arrows dangling from one side, and a sheathed long knife on the other. He gazed at Kendra without a smile. “Your brother?” he asked.
“Seth went ahead to the stables,” Kendra said. “He’s excited about the griffins.”
Henrick scowled. “Griffins are good for accessing the mountains or the more distant reaches of the sanctuary. But dragons patrol the sky as well. We want the protection of the High Road, which means feet on the ground, which means horses.”
“I don’t think he was expecting to ride one,” Kendra said. “Of course, you never know with Seth.”
Henrick started toward the stables. “Your brother is unpredictable?”
Kendra hustled to keep up. Mendigo rattled along beside her. She didn’t want to make Seth look bad. First impressions were important. “Curious,” she said.
Henrick shook his head. “Wyrmroost is a death trap even for seasoned adventurers. A curious child has no place here.”
Kendra felt mildly offended on Seth’s behalf. “He is the caretaker.”
“And I’m the gamekeeper,” Henrick said. “As I understand it, my charge today is to keep you two alive. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Kendra said.
“Then curiosity is a problem,” Henrick said.
When they entered the large stable, Kendra smelled hay and animals and leather. She saw Seth and a dwarf at the far end of a long row of stalls. At first her eyes passed over the horses, but her gaze returned to the nearest when it used its mouth to turn a page in a book. The book rested on a lectern inside the stall. Several shelves on the inner walls of the stall held a variety of hardcover books. After turning the page the horse kept staring downward.
“Is that horse reading?” Kendra asked.
“All of them read,” Henrick said. “They’re mute Luvians.”
Kendra scanned other stalls, noticing bookshelves in all of them. Several other horses were staring at open books.
“I’ve never heard of Luvians,” Kendra said.
“They were donated by the Zowali Protectorate.”
“Is that in Africa?”
“It’s one of the protected territories here at Wyrmroost. You’ll learn more about it in the days and weeks to come. Have you not looked at a map yet?”
“I haven’t,” Kendra admitted.
Henrick stared at her grimly. “You are leaving Blackwell Keep as caretaker in a time of unrest without having consulted a map of the sanctuary?”
Kendra gulped, feeling like she had shown up on the day of the test without studying. “I guess I should have taken a look.”
“Quite an understatement,” Henrick said. “What if a dragon carries me off? What if I drop dead?”
“I guess I would follow the High Road,” Kendra said. “We’re not supposed to leave it, right?”
Henrick’s expression softened a degree. “At least that is a reasonable answer. And the horses know their way around. But you should be more prepared. This is a hostile environment. Proper preparation can reduce the risks.”
“I’ll remember that,” Kendra said earnestly.
Henrick gave a nod. “The Zowali Protectorate is the territory of the talking animals. The Luvians are the illustrious breed of talking horses.”
“They can really talk?” Kendra exclaimed, looking at the animals with new interest.
Henrick moved closer, crouching down to whisper. “Not so loud. These are all mute Luvians. Though born from the Luvian line, they have lost the power of speech.”
“But they can read,” Kendra whispered.
“Their minds are plenty sharp,” Henrick said. “The Luvians donate their mute children to the keep as a form of exile. Luvians are very protective of their ability to speak. It’s a dwindling trait. They don’t allow mutes to mingle with the herd.”
“How cruel,” Kendra whispered.
“A harsh reality,” Henrick said, “but not cruel. The silent ones receive excellent care here. At the age of two years, we give them the option to run free. Few take it.”
Kendra approached the nearest horse, chestnut with white splotches. A nameplate on the stall read: Glory.
“What are you reading?” Kendra asked.
The horse looked at Kendra, then used her teeth to tip the book on the lectern, making the cover visible.
“Pride and Prejudice!” Kendra said. “You have good taste!”
“It’s her favorite,” said a gravelly voice off to one side. Kendra glanced down at a dwarf.
“Hello,” Kendra said. “I’m Kendra.”
“Didger,” the dwarf said. “Glory is one of our best and brightest. Sweet disposition, still in her physical prime, with plenty of strength and endurance.”
“I need a horse for today,” Kendra said.
“You’re the new caretaker,” Didger said. “You can have your pick.”
“But I haven’t been here long,” Kendra said. “I don’t know the animals. What horse would you suggest?”
Tapping the side of his nose, Didger glanced at Henrick with a grin. The dwarf was missing at least two teeth. “This one has some sense.”
“I’m not without hope,” Henrick said.
Didger looked back at Kendra. “How experienced are you with horses?”
“Not very,” Kendra confessed.
“Then Glory could be just the one,” Didger said. “She’s very considerate of her rider.”
“Sounds good to me,” Kendra said.
“Why not ask her?” Didger prompted.
Glory had stopped reading and had shifted her head so she could gaze at Kendra with one large eye. The animal seemed politely interested.
“Would you take me to Terrabelle today?” Kendra asked.
The horse stamped once.
“Does that mean yes?” Kendra asked.
Glory bobbed her head and stamped again.
“One for yes, two for no,” Didger said.
Kendra stroked the furry cheek of the horse. “You enjoy Pride and Prejudice, but you’re stuck communicating with yes and no.”
Glory stamped once.
“Does that frustrate you?”
Glory gave a very loud stamp and bobbed her head.
“In the play area they have letter tiles,” Didger said. “Sometimes they spell out messages. Glory writes poems.”
“These horses read books!” Seth announced, coming down the aisle between the stalls. Kendra recognized the dwarf at his heels as Obun.
“I figured that out,” Kendra said.
“Have you seen the griffins?” Seth asked.
“Not yet,” Kendra said. “I was choosing my horse.”
“We get to pick?” Seth asked.
“We’re the caretakers,” Kendra reminded him.
Seth whacked his forehead with his palm. “How do I keep forgetting?” He fingered the medallion. “How do I choose?”
“Are you an experienced rider?” Didger asked.
“I’ve ridden a centaur,” Seth said.
“Careful how you mock,” Henrick warned.
“I did!” Seth said.
“What self-respecting centaur would condescend—”
“Broadhoof, at Fablehaven,” Seth said. “It was an emergency.”
Didger folded his arms. “Discounting emergency centaur romps, how much experience—”
“Not much,” Seth said. “But it’s a safe bet that I’m a natural. Do you have any horses like Tempest?”
“Who is Tempest?” Kendra asked.
“Their wildest griffin,” Seth said, pointing toward the far end of the stable. The griffin stalls were much larger than the horse stalls, with perches and rock
y mounds inside, more like an enclosure at a nice zoo. “The fastest, the fiercest, but not safe for humans yet.”
“That griffin may never be rideable,” Obun said. “Too much spirit.”
“She knows the preserve well,” Didger said. “She’ll take you where you request. But by her own route, in her own way. She’s uncontrollable. Makes even the most seasoned rider sick. But it’s hard to give up on that much raw ability. She’ll be quite the mount if we can gentle her.”
“Do the griffins read?” Kendra asked.
Both of the dwarfs laughed.
“No, lassie,” Didger said. “Griffins are a different order of intelligence than the Luvians. Smart for an animal, mind you, but not readers.”
“All the horses read?” Seth asked.
“For the most part,” Didger said. “Noble can be reluctant.”
“Tell me about Noble,” Seth said.
“One of our three stallions,” Didger said. “On flat ground, probably the fastest.”
“Where is he?” Seth asked.
Didger led them down the aisle to the stall of a chocolate brown horse with a black mane. The animal nibbled at hay in a feed box.
Seth picked up the book on the lectern—The Cat in the Hat.
“Picture books,” Seth said. “Look, Kendra, he mostly has picture books.”
Kendra peered into the stall. Slim, brightly colored spines lined the shelves. No novels. The longest book she spotted was Frog and Toad Are Friends.
Noble stared at Seth.
“You’re a reluctant reader?” Seth asked.
Noble stamped once.
“But you like to run fast?”
Noble stamped again.
“I want this one,” Seth said.
“Not a bad pick,” Didger said.
“Are you sure?” Henrick challenged. “What about Princess? Her disposition is more—”
“No horses called Princess,” Seth interrupted. “Or Fluffykins. Or Pony Face. A stallion is a boy horse, right?”
“Yes,” Didger said.
“I want Noble,” Seth insisted.
“Ask him,” Didger suggested.
“Who, Henrick?” Seth wondered.
“No, ask Noble,” Didger clarified.