by Brandon Mull
Vanessa frowned. “Sorry, Tanu. I’ve controlled many. We should get moving. Time is short.”
“Dectus mentioned that the wall has a gate we can slip through,” Kendra said.
“Follow me,” Warren instructed.
Staying low, they hurried along the base of the wall, pausing when they found cover. Kendra noticed a raven on a fence across the lane that looked big enough to carry any of them away. “Do you see the bird?” she whispered.
“I’m not going to die by raven,” Warren said. “I refuse.”
“Then you’ll have to avoid it or fight it off,” Vanessa said. “That bird is big enough to kill any of us.”
“I came prepared,” Tanu said, crouching between the wall and a large stone. After briefly rummaging in his pouches, he produced a vial. “Kendra should take a swallow of this. It will make her smell dangerous or poisonous to most animals.”
“Dogs?” Vanessa asked. “Cats?”
“Ravens?” Warren added.
“Yes,” Tanu said.
“Giant ravens?” Kendra asked.
Tanu handed Kendra the vial. “I believe it will work on giant versions of animals. The rest of us will have reasonable protection if we stay near her, leaving us free to use other potions.”
Kendra found that the potion tasted almost painfully minty.
“Will this make me smell like mouthwash?” Kendra asked.
Tanu took the vial back. “You’ll notice hints of peppermint, lavender, vinegar, citrus, and other more subtle notes. It shouldn’t bother human nostrils.”
“What other potions did you bring?” Vanessa asked.
“Some of my standards,” Tanu said. “I have some gaseous potions for worst-case scenarios. I have an augmented version of my giant potion, which still won’t make me much higher than the knee of a sky giant. I have some of the speed potions we used on Timbuli. And something new.” Tanu passed a flask to Warren. “I call it my gummy potion. Developed it with Uma. The potion puts your whole body into a gummy state. Your skin becomes almost impossible to pierce or tear, your bones will stretch or bend instead of breaking, and your sense of pain will be dulled. The cost is a reduction in motor skills.”
“I’ll keep it handy,” Warren said.
They continued along the base of the wall until they reached a wrought-iron gate. Beyond the metal bars, a wide path wound through a garden up to a manor house with broad front steps and white pillars. From where Kendra stood, she could see pumpkins and watermelons two stories tall, raspberries the size of soccer balls, and tomatoes that she would not be able to reach both arms around.
Kendra sniffed the back of her hand. It smelled like she had been sampling a multitude of essential oils.
“Want me to go in solo?” Warren asked. “I can drink this gummy potion.”
“We should stick together,” Tanu said. “We have a better chance working as a team.”
“Time is passing,” Vanessa reminded everyone.
“I’ll take the lead,” Warren said, charging between the bars of the gate. The others followed, eventually taking shelter in a patch of strawberries the size of bed pillows. Tanu used his knife to cut away part of a strawberry and stashed it in a pouch.
“Collecting ingredients?” Kendra asked.
“Why not?” Tanu said. “I’m interested in size potions.”
They paralleled the path toward the house, staying just off it, forcing their way through the greenery of the garden. As they passed a particularly large, oblong pumpkin, Kendra ran a hand across its smooth surface. “We could live inside of this,” she said.
“Good luck hollowing it out,” Warren said.
“Look at the butterfly,” Tanu said, jerking a thumb.
Yellow with black and orange markings, the butterfly’s wings looked big enough for a human to wear as part of a fairy costume. After fluttering about, the butterfly alighted on a blossoming vine.
“What’re you doing here?” shouted a gruff voice. “This is a private garden! Begone!”
Kendra whirled to face the speaker and saw a man with a gray, wiry beard and a bulbous nose. He was a few inches shorter than her and wore a bright blue coat, red pants, and wooden shoes. He shook a hoe to emphasize his words.
Vanessa hushed him, then turned to speak to the others. “Anybody understand this guy?”
“Is he a garden gnome?” Warren asked.
“Don’t shush me,” the man griped. “I don’t need no shushing on account of I ain’t no trespasser.”
“If so, he’s a big gnome,” Tanu said.
“It’s a big garden,” Warren reminded him.
“We’re not here to harm the garden,” Kendra said, speaking his gnomish dialect.
The man glared at her. “You’re fairykind?”
“You’re a garden gnome?” Kendra asked.
“Course I’m a garden gnome!” the man replied. “You’re traipsing around a private garden! You should’ve knowed better than to enter uninvited. You all need to scram!”
“We’re not here to harm the garden,” Kendra said.
The gnome narrowed his eyes. “These three got the look of berry pinchers. The big one reeks of strawberry.”
“We’re just passing through,” Kendra said.
“Passing through?” the gnome exclaimed. “Have you any notion what Madam would do to us all if she caught you trampling her private garden? We’d be fertilizing the rutabagas!”
“What’s he saying?” Tanu asked.
“He’s trying to throw us out,” Warren said. “You don’t need to speak garden gnome to know that.”
“We’re here on giant business,” Kendra said, trying to sound official.
“You’re awful small for giant business,” the gnome said. “What do you take me for? You meddlers have the aspect of root filchers.”
“We’re protectors of Titan Valley,” Kendra said. “We have to make it into the house to get help from Madam Ladonna.”
The gnome cupped a hand beside his ear. “Into the house.”
“Yes, we need to get inside,” Kendra said.
The gnome cackled and danced a little jig. “If I conduct you up to the house, you’ll be going inside? On purpose?”
“Yes,” Kendra said.
The gnome scrunched his forehead. “What’ll you pilfer from the garden?”
“Nothing,” Kendra said. “Tanu can give back the pieces of strawberry.”
“You can’t unpick fruit,” the gnome said. “What’s done is done. You have a fair manner of speech. Do you know our mistress, the Fairy Queen?”
“I do,” Kendra said. “And we need your help.”
The gnome tugged at his beard. “Well, seeing as the cats won’t come near you, and you’ve been blessed by her ladyship, I’ll take you to the house. I’ll show you a way in. Once you’re inside, it’s up to you.”
“Thank you,” Kendra said. She turned to the others. “He’ll show us a way into the house.”
“Really?” Vanessa asked.
“I think he figures we’ll die in there,” Kendra said.
“Death would be a courtesy if you’re caught indoors,” the gnome said.
“Now you understand English?” Kendra asked.
“I understand more than I let on,” the gnome said. “Follow me. Don’t stomp nothing.”
The gnome led them on a route past long rows of carrots, towering cornstalks, and winding grapevines. They roamed far from the path, pushing past oversized leaves, occasionally catching glimpses of other gnomes. Kendra noticed a huge striped cat watching them with interest from a distance. A leaner brown cat prowled their way, then retreated as if bitten. Kendra assumed it was reacting to her scent.
The gnome guided them onto a brick path that led to the back of the manor house. White wooden stairs accessed the back porch, each step a little taller than Kendra.
“The back door’s got a portal for cats,” the gnome said. “You should be able to wriggle through.”
“Thanks,”
Kendra said. “What’s your name?”
“Oh no you don’t,” the gnome said. “My name is my business, thank you very much.” He gestured at the house. “Off to your doom.”
“The trellis will be easier than the stairs,” Warren said, indicating the flourishing grapevines along the perimeter of the porch.
Warren started up first. Kendra found the climbing fairly easy—the gaps in the trellis were not too big, and the grapevines added extra handholds. Warren helped her onto the porch, where she found a white wooden swing suspended by chains, dangling out of reach. The foursome gathered at the back door near a rectangular opening covered by a cloth.
“The old cat-door routine,” Warren said.
“Have you done this before?” Tanu asked.
“Not on this scale,” Warren said. “Usually the trick is getting your shoulders through.”
“The gnome got eager when I asked him to bring us here,” Kendra said. “I’m pretty sure he thinks we’re goners.”
Vanessa jogged away from the door and peered off the porch. “He is watching us expectantly.” She gave a little wave.
“I’ll go in first,” Warren said, holding up the gummy potion. “How much time do we have left?”
Tanu checked his wristwatch. “Just under eighty minutes.”
Warren shoved through the cloth. Kendra pushed in next. They entered an enormous kitchen with a cold tile floor. Kendra felt horribly exposed on the empty expanse. Vanessa led a dash to take modest cover behind a table leg.
“This place is gigantic,” Tanu whispered, panting slightly. “Where do we start?”
“Should we split up?” Warren asked.
“Only if somebody else ingests the repellent scent,” Tanu said. “A cat door means cats could be inside. And who knows what else?”
“What’s that box by the other table leg?” Kendra asked, pointing. The metal crate looked big enough to accommodate a human or two if they crouched.
“Let’s find out,” Warren said, leading the charge.
They reached the crate and ducked to peek inside. A raw steak sat on a tin plate.
“It’s a trap,” Tanu said. “This hatch at the front of the crate is rigged to slam shut.”
“If they had cooked the bait, I might be tempted,” Warren said, rubbing his belly.
Kendra heard growling, and she turned to find a pack of five wolves approaching from over by the pantry. They were not giant wolves, but regular-sized wolves were enough to make Kendra freeze. The intent canines showed teeth and hunkered low as they approached, but they stopped advancing about twenty yards away.
“The smell works to repel wolves?” Kendra asked.
“Yes,” Tanu said. “Can’t you tell they want to come closer?”
“The box might be a wolf trap,” Warren guessed.
“Right now they seem hungry for us,” Vanessa said. “Or maybe they’re being territorial.”
“Out!” called a rich soprano voice from high above. A giant woman padded into the kitchen, making the tiles tremble. She had gray, curly hair and wore a long housecoat and furry slippers. “Shoo! Out you go!”
The wolves began to whine and yelp as she used a broom to sweep them toward the door. Compared to the woman, the wolf pack seemed like mice or rats. Her efficient strokes forced them to the doorway and redirected any wolf that tried to make a break for it. She opened the door and whisked the whining pack outside.
“And stay out,” the woman said, nudging the door closed with her hip.
Kendra and her companions crouched low behind the wolf trap and the table leg. As the woman approached the table, only her bottom half remained in view, including the spidery veins on her legs above her slippers.
“I suppose you four think you’re hiding from me,” the giant scolded. “Enough nonsense. Come out from under the table.”
Warren held a finger to his lips. Kendra stopped breathing.
“Don’t make me move the table,” the giant woman warned. “I’ll be much more cross if you treat me like a fool. I know you’re there. I know you hear me. Come out. All four of you. I will count to five.” She reversed her broom and tapped the handle on the floor. “One.” She tapped it again. “Two.”
Vanessa gave a nod. Tanu shrugged.
Another tap. “Three.”
Kendra and her friends raced out from under the cover of the table. The farther they ran, the more of the giant came into view.
Tap. “Four.” Tap. “Ah, just in time.”
Warren, Vanessa, Tanu, and Kendra slowed as the giant’s face came into sight. In one hand she held the broom. In the other she clutched a bucket.
“Enter my private abode uninvited, will you?” the woman asked.
Flipping the bucket upside down, she crouched and used it to cover Kendra and her friends, shutting out almost all light. Vanessa placed a reassuring hand on Kendra’s shoulder.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this in no time,” the giant said, her voice somewhat muffled by the bucket. “Or my name isn’t Madam Ladonna.”
Seth and Virgil approached one of the smallish stone buildings situated in Arena Plaza Park. Each of the four buildings had a line of people that would pack the available space well beyond capacity.
“This must lead underground,” Seth said.
“You’re about to find out,” Virgil said.
They reached the back of the nearest line. “Just tell me! I’m sure I guessed it.”
“Then you don’t need confirmation,” Virgil said.
“Why the mystery?” Seth asked.
“I want to give you the full experience,” Virgil said.
Large trolls and minotaurs provided security at the entrances. Seth held his token ready. Up at the front of the line, he saw a minotaur pick up a goblin, haul him away from the building, and fling him onto the lawn.
“Some attendees try to beg their way inside,” Virgil said. “Making it more confusing, sometimes they succeed. The guards have a few entrance tokens to give out at their discretion.”
A trio of centaurs got in line behind Seth. They crowded too close for his liking, raucously boasting about how the statue of the centaur was clearly about to slaughter the minotaur. The group smelled strongly of sweat and horses.
Most attendees ahead of Seth had tokens and handed them over routinely. The line moved slowly but steadily. Just before Seth and Virgil reached the gate, a dark-haired man fell to his knees before one of the troll guards.
“Please, mighty Dronis, grant me leave to pass,” the man pleaded. He bent forward and began peppering the guard’s bare feet with kisses.
“Why should I let you enter without a token?” the troll asked. “What message does it send to those who earned the right to enter?”
“My money is spent,” the man lamented. “I’m living in alleys, eating scraps. I missed catching a rabbit, failed at a challenge, and found no favor to accomplish.” He kissed the feet some more.
“I like that you know your place,” the troll said, flexing one of his feet. “But you have entered this way before.” The troll turned to those waiting to enter. “What says the line?”
“Off with him,” one of the centaurs cried.
“Don’t reward him for slowing us down,” another centaur bellowed.
The troll nodded at a nearby minotaur. “You heard the consensus,” the troll said.
The minotaur grabbed the man by the ankles, dragged him away from the entrance, then swung him into the air, sending him flying onto the lawn. The man scrambled to his feet and darted away. Seth wondered if he might go try a different entrance.
“Token,” a minotaur demanded, thrusting a hand out to Virgil as he reached the front. The satyr tossed it to him, and the minotaur waved him through.
Seth held out his token to the troll the man had kissed, but the guard refused to accept it. “Players don’t pay.”
“What?” Seth asked.
“In you go,” the troll said, looking beyond him. “Next.”
&nb
sp; Seth caught up to Virgil and held up his token. The satyr looked excited. “You got in free! That must mean you’re considered an active participant in the Games!”
Seth stopped advancing. “What do you mean? Will they try to make me fight?”
Virgil laughed. “Normally, fighting is the only way to get in as a contestant. But your involvement with Humbuggle at Stormguard Castle must have marked you as an active player. I’ve never met anyone who played any of his other Games. They usually die.”
“How am I marked?” Seth asked.
“I’ve researched this,” Virgil said. “Remember, Humbuggle controls this domain. Those who work for him see an aura around active participants. You automatically carry identification wherever you go. My contacts wouldn’t share exactly how it looks because they don’t want anyone trying to counterfeit it.”
“Out of the way,” a centaur demanded. Seth and Virgil moved over against the wall, and several centaurs clopped by.
“But the game I played is over,” Seth said.
“Is it?” Virgil asked. “What was the prize?”
“The Wizenstone,” Seth said.
“Did somebody win the Wizenstone?” Virgil asked.
“Not exactly,” Seth said.
Virgil pointed at him. “Then that game isn’t over, whether you knew it or not. This validates one of my main theories: the Games are a collection of contests that reach beyond any individual competition.” He clapped Seth on the back. “You’re my best evidence yet. Come on.”
The stone hallway stretched ahead of them well beyond where the building should have ended. In the distance, sunlight was visible through a coral archway.
“This place is bigger inside than it looks from outside,” Seth said.
“Let’s not dally,” Virgil said.
Seth and Virgil hurried forward, exiting onto a broad patio in front of a tremendous coliseum. Turning in a full circle, Seth absorbed the improbable view. They stood atop a mesa overlooking the ocean on all sides. Extensive walkways, patios, and rose gardens surrounded the limestone coliseum.
“Where are we?” Seth asked.
“Definitely not underground,” the satyr replied.
“Where is Humburgh?”
“Welcome to the Arena,” Virgil said, spreading his arms proudly. “There are several pocket dimensions within Humburgh. This is the largest I know about.”