by Brandon Mull
Kendra hesitated. “Not entirely. But I like that Titan Valley seems secure.”
“Tell me why you came into my house,” Madam Ladonna instructed.
“We didn’t mean any harm,” Kendra said, and the scales lurched enough to make her sit down hard. She hadn’t expected the scales to move because she hadn’t felt like she was lying. Kendra stared up in fear of how the giant would react. Madam Ladonna frowned as she righted two weights on the other side.
“What harm did you intend?” Madam Ladonna asked, an angry edge to the question.
“We wanted to take the Waystar,” Kendra admitted.
Madam Ladonna gasped. “What did you intend to do with my precious jewel?”
“I’m not sure,” Kendra said. The scales heaved again, making Kendra glad she had stayed seated. Once again, she had not expected movement.
“Answer me,” Madam Ladonna insisted.
“We were getting it for a giant,” Kendra said.
“Which giant?” Madam Ladonna asked.
Kendra paused. “A good giant. One of your leaders. We want to help defend Titan Valley.”
Madam Ladonna considered the scales as if surprised they had not moved.
“I need a name,” Madam Ladonna said.
“I mustn’t betray him,” Kendra said.
“You believe him to be a good giant,” Madam Ladonna said. “That does not guarantee he is actually good. If you and your friends want a chance to live, I need a name.”
Kendra winced. “Dectus.”
“Ah,” Madam Ladonna said, looking away. “Tampering, as always.” She looked back at Kendra. “Why does he want the Waystar?”
“I don’t know,” Kendra said. The scales wobbled a little.
“You’re not telling me everything,” Madam Ladonna said.
“Getting the Waystar is the first part of a larger mission,” Kendra said. “I only know Dectus wants us to help him protect Titan Valley from the dragon war.”
Madam Ladonna scrutinized the scales. They stayed level.
“I see,” Madam Ladonna said. “At times I disagree with his methods, but Dectus is loyal to our queen and to the interests of the giants. Dectus sent you to take the Waystar from me?”
“Yes,” Kendra said.
“A test, no doubt,” Madam Ladonna said. “But a test you were not likely to pass. More likely he wanted this interview to happen. Kendra, do you have any motives to be here at Titan Valley besides helping the giants?”
“I want to find my brother,” Kendra said. “He lost his memories.”
“Do you mean any harm to Titan Valley or the giants who dwell here?” Madam Ladonna asked.
“No.”
“Did you deliberately help Wyrmroost fall?”
“No way!”
“Did you defend Wyrmroost as best you could?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware of any peril to Titan Valley?”
“The Giant Queen is entertaining Ronodin, the dark unicorn. Destruction follows wherever he goes. Here he is called the giant killer. That might turn out to be more literal than anyone suspects.”
Eyes on the perfectly balanced scales, Madam Ladonna nodded. “You intend to use the Waystar to help Dectus protect Titan Valley?”
“Yes,” Kendra said. “We were just borrowing it. We didn’t intend to keep it.”
“And your friends share your intentions?” Madam Ladonna asked.
“I’m sure they do,” Kendra said.
Madam Ladonna smiled. “Well, for now, your good intentions have saved your life.”
Kendra felt relief. “I’m sorry we trespassed.”
“It earned you a cold welcome. As a former caretaker, you should be trustworthy, but I had to be sure. Dangerous items are housed here.”
Kendra glanced at the Quiet Box. “Who is inside?”
“Best not to speak of her,” Madam Ladonna said. “Hope that she stays there.”
“Somebody big?”
“Not necessarily. But yes.”
Kendra shivered, gazing at the towering box. At that size, it could be almost anyone—a giant, or a dragon, or an enormous demon.
“What are you going to do with us?” Kendra asked.
“What would you have me do?”
Kendra attempted her best smile. “Maybe give us the Waystar? So we can protect the sanctuary?”
“I will not let you take the Waystar,” Madam Ladonna said. “But since your intentions are honorable, and because I trust Dectus, under my supervision, I will let you use the Waystar for the purpose I believe he intended.”
“What purpose is that?” Kendra asked.
“He wants you to have the map to the Dragon Temple,” Madam Ladonna said. “I suspect Dectus wants you to recover the Harp of Ages in case it is needed in the dragon war.”
The news astonished Kendra. “That sounds dangerous.”
“You and your friends will almost surely perish,” Madam Ladonna said. “But no giant can undertake the quest because the entrance and passages are far too small. All by design, of course. The dragons were permitted to build their temples by treaty to protect the talismans that helped us overpower them. Should you somehow succeed, Dectus is correct that the Harp of Ages would grant extra protection from the dragons.”
“The Waystar is a map?” Kendra asked.
Madam Ladonna crossed to a shelf and plucked something between her thumb and forefinger. She came to Kendra and set it on the scale with her, a rich blue jewel the dimensions of a normal-sized grapefruit.
“The Waystar is a gemstone that makes a map,” Madam Ladonna explained.
“It’s the perfect color,” Kendra said.
“Always,” Madam Ladonna agreed. “For me, it’s pale green.”
“It makes a map?” Kendra asked.
Madam Ladonna held out her palm. “Bring the Waystar. Come.”
Kendra picked up the jewel and hopped onto Madam Ladonna’s hand. She was carried through the kitchen, out the back door, and into the garden. Kendra had seen the bucket containing her friends but didn’t call out to them.
Madam Ladonna set Kendra down on a sundial that seemed at least three stories tall. The giant produced a parchment that seemed large to Kendra, nearly wider than her armspan.
“You can do this easier than I can,” Madam Ladonna said. “Hold the Waystar so the sunlight passes through it onto the parchment.”
Kendra held out the jewel and noticed bright lines making a web on the parchment. It looked more like spaghetti than a map.
“Move the jewel closer and farther from the parchment until the image resolves,” Madam Ladonna directed.
Kendra raised and lowered the jewel, watching the mess of bright lines writhe until at just the right distance from the page, everything came into sharp focus and she beheld a brilliant map of Titan Valley, labeled in a fairy language that she could read as plainly as English.
“I see the map,” Kendra said.
“Well done. Hold the jewel steady.”
Kendra started trying to read the map until a bright flash made her close her eyes. When she looked again, the bright lines had all been burned into the parchment, rendering the jewel unnecessary.
“That’s amazing,” Kendra said.
“Do you see now why you no longer need to borrow the Waystar?” Madam Ladonna asked.
“It’s a tool to make the map,” Kendra replied. “Like a stamp.”
“Quite so,” Madam Ladonna said, holding out her hand.
Kendra climbed on and was carried back into the house. This time when she saw the overturned bucket she called out, “It’s going to be all right!”
“Are you okay?” Warren responded, his voice muted.
“I’m fine,” Kendra called.
Madam Ladonna returned to her study, set Kendra on the desk, and replaced the Waystar on her shelf. “I suppose you will need me to return you to Terastios,” the giant said.
“If you take us to your front gate, Dectus will retur
n for us,” Kendra said.
“I am tempted to give him a piece of my mind for sending you here unannounced,” Madam Ladonna said. “But I have lost enough time with you already. I will collect your friends and leave you to the connivings of the politicians. Please do not return here uninvited.”
“Thank you for your help,” Kendra said.
Madam Ladonna laughed grandly. “Thank me after you survive.”
Out on the arena floor, a uniformed man and woman were putting on an exhibition of trained bears and jungle cats. Under some circumstances it could have been quite entertaining, but after being saturated with mortal combat, Seth could hardly pay attention.
“When does all of this end?” Seth asked.
“The Games halt about an hour before sunset,” Virgil said. “Every night there are fireworks for those who care to stay. Technically, once admitted to the coliseum, nobody has to leave. If you are willing to sleep on the benches, you can stay inside until the Games start the next day.”
“What about food?”
“Food is for sale in the halls of the coliseum. And some people scrounge.”
“Humbuggle built his own world here,” Seth said.
“The world of the Titan Games inside the world of his town,” Virgil said. “And there is the secret world of the competitors beneath the arena floor.”
“They live underground?” Seth asked.
“Once they enlist in the Games, they live and train here,” Virgil said. “They never emerge. When they watch the combat, it is from their own private section.” Virgil regarded Seth thoughtfully. “Now I’m wondering something.”
“What?” Seth asked.
“You were admitted to the arena as a participant in the Games,” Virgil said. “You were granted access to the reserved seats. I wonder how far your access goes.”
“What do you mean?” Seth asked.
“Those of us who study the Games dream of accessing the competitors’ quarters. Who knows what secrets Humbuggle has hidden down there where only the gladiators, trainers, and a few members of the senior staff can venture?”
“You think I have access?”
“Only one way to find out,” Virgil said.
“What would I look for down there?” Seth asked.
“Humbuggle once said, ‘The dullest part of my Games happens on the arena floor,’” Virgil recited. “That is a direct quote.”
“Then where do the most exciting parts happen?” Seth said.
“Perhaps he was boasting or trying to misdirect,” Virgil said. “Or maybe the smarter action is behind the scenes at the arena and hidden around Humburgh. Could there be other ways to win? Secret contests? Like the game you played at Stormguard Castle.”
“Just about anything sounds better than a hundred gladiator fights,” Seth said. “Let’s see if we can get behind the scenes.”
“Hold on,” Virgil said. “Be forewarned, it may be easier to get in than to get out. The combatants are not allowed to leave.”
“I didn’t sign up to be a gladiator,” Seth said. “And I’m not going to jump into the arena and join a fight. Would they have any claim on me?”
“I don’t think so,” Virgil said.
“We’ll ask the guards,” Seth said. “I’ll see if I can get you in, too.”
“Are you sure about this?” Virgil asked.
Seth leaned close and lowered his voice. “I came here to beat Humbuggle. That won’t happen if I don’t do some things others haven’t. It’s going to involve risk. Compared with fighting to the death in front of an audience, I’d rather explore the coliseum.”
Virgil rose from his seat. “This way.”
They climbed the stairs and exited past a guard into a hallway. Virgil turned right, passing some food stands.
“Hungry?” Virgil asked.
“I could eat,” Seth said. “Do you have money?”
“Enough for some food.”
Virgil bought them each a skewer of meat and vegetables. As they continued along their way, Seth bit off a juicy chunk of beef that was almost too hot to chew.
They reached a black gate where a heavyset troll stood, resting a club on one shoulder. Above him, a sculpted insignia of a skull wearing a gladiator helm adorned the gate.
“Ordinarily we couldn’t pass beyond this point,” Virgil murmured.
Seth gave a nod, sliding a hot mushroom off the skewer with his teeth. After chewing and swallowing, he approached the troll. “Can we go through here?”
“You, of course,” the troll said. “Him, absolutely not.”
“Not even as my guest?” Seth asked.
The troll gave a grunt. “What are you playing at?”
“But I can go in and out?” Seth asked.
“Unless you sign on as an active combatant,” the troll said.
Seth turned to Virgil. “See you later.”
“If you’re certain . . .” Virgil hedged.
“Don’t wait up,” Seth said.
“I’ll be here when you’re done,” Virgil promised. “Southwest below-ground access gate.”
Seth gave Virgil a little salute, then patted the troll on the arm. “Keep up the good work.”
The troll elbowed Seth roughly. “Hands off.”
“You’re worried about me?” Seth asked. “Keep your eyes on the goatman.”
“He’s a comedian,” Virgil said with an uncertain smile.
The troll sneered. “The best comedy leans on truth.”
Seth hurried through the checkpoint. As the hall curved away from the gate, sloping downward, it rapidly became bleak and bare. Gone were the food stands, statues, fountains, and architectural flourishes. The floor grew uneven, and Seth noticed cracks and water stains on the stony walls.
The arena crowd roared, the exuberance now above and behind him. A new fight must have started, because he had not heard the audience respond with such enthusiasm to any of the other entertainment.
Natural light faded, and the passage branched. Seth took the steeper way and soon found stairs that wound downward. He came out into a torchlit corridor where a minotaur with his arm in a sling stood in close conversation with a warty brown ogre. Both stopped talking and turned to face Seth. The minotaur exhaled sharply.
Seth walked by them, avoiding eye contact. From far above, he heard the noise of the crowd surge again, too distant to carry much volume. Louder, from up ahead, Seth heard overlapping conversations, punctuated by laughter.
The corridor emptied into a dining area full of benches and long tables. Behind a counter, a quartet of cooks attended to grills laden with meat and bubbling stewpots. The powerfully built diners must have been gladiators, though none wore armor or carried weapons. Some were dressed in simple tunics, others in shirts and pants, mostly browns and grays. The homespun clothes were of such similar style that Seth assumed they were provided by whoever ran the coliseum.
A large hand clapped down on Seth’s shoulder. “Aren’t you a tad young to dine here?”
Seth looked up at a handsome man, clean-shaven, middle-aged, with intense brown eyes, a slightly receding hairline, and a cleft chin. “I participate in the Games.”
“I can tell,” the man said. “But not as a combatant here in the Titan Games. Have you come to enlist?”
Some warriors at a nearby table chuckled at the question.
“Still deciding,” Seth said.
“Give it a few years,” the man said. “We’re always looking for able candidates.”
“Are you a gladiator?” Seth asked.
“In another life, perhaps,” the man said. “I’m Fenrick, one of the trainers.” He gently hit Seth on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “Maybe we’ll work together one day.”
“Boy!” a woman at a nearby table called. “Come here.”
She was a plain woman with a sparkle of mischief in her gaze. Of average height and slender build, she didn’t seem suited for the kind of combat Seth had watched from the stands. He approached her table.
Beside her, a thickset guy with an orange beard watched him curiously.
“What brings you down here?” she asked.
“Snooping around,” Seth said. “Trying to figure out the Games.”
The guy with the orange beard laughed. “Why not start young?”
“Because he’ll die young,” the woman said.
The guy waved away her words. “The boy isn’t here to fight. He’s scouting. What’s your name, lad?”
“Seth.”
“I’m Per and this is Rianne,” he said. “We don’t often hear casual words from Fenrick.”
“Is he mean?” Seth asked.
“Stern,” Rianne said. “He’s the best trainer here. He wants us all to live, so he makes life exhausting.”
“You can’t all live,” Seth said.
“Those who train with him fare better than most,” Per said. “But who are we kidding? Nobody makes it to a hundred games.”
“I will,” Rianne said.
“She says after seven victories,” Per scoffed.
Rianne glanced at Seth. “You have free run down here?”
“So far,” Seth said. “I’m a participant in the Games.”
“Where did you start?” Per asked.
“Stormguard Castle,” Seth said.
“I heard that contest finally ended,” Per said.
“I was part of that,” Seth replied.
“Who won?” Rianna asked around a bite of potatoes. “Shouldn’t one of you have the Wizenstone?”
“The game ended with a player sending the Wizenstone away,” Seth said.
Per grimaced. “Must have made everyone crazy to come so close.”
“I lost my memories,” Seth said.
“All of them?” Per asked.
“My whole identity,” Seth said. “Up until that point, at least.”
Per gave a soft whistle. “He’s not so different from us. The kid’s a veteran.”
“Did you lose your memories too?” Seth asked.
“Some of them,” Per said. “Do you know how it works with combatants?”
“Not really,” Seth said.
“Don’t spill too much,” Rianne said. “He belongs topside.”
“He’s a player,” Per said. “We can talk freely to other contestants.”
“You want to do favors for a competitor?” Rianne asked.