by Brandon Mull
“Seth was here?” Kendra asked, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. “With the Sphinx?”
Agad gave a nod. “I saw them, Kendra. The Sphinx must have come through the barrel and hidden before Mendigo escaped with Seth. Mendigo would have brought him through while the barrel was missing. The Sphinx hid here until he killed the minotaurs, brought Seth through, and finally sent Seth back.”
“Wraiths,” Tanu warned.
Staggering, Agad waved an arm, and a semicircular wall of white flame sprang up to block the wraiths from approaching the door. Marat supported his sagging brother.
“You’re exerting yourself beyond your limits,” Marat said.
“As is appropriate,” Agad said. “Ultimately, this sanctuary is my responsibility. If it falls, I should fall with it.”
“We will need you in the greater conflict,” Marat said.
Agad frowned. “I can’t be everywhere, do everything. Instead I am doing what I can.”
“Seth did this?” Kendra asked, on the edge of hysteria, not wanting to believe it.
“He did not know me,” Agad said. “I doubt he understood what he was doing.”
Kendra felt sick. Her worst fears were already playing out. Not only did their enemies have her brother, but he appeared to be siding with them.
“I suspect only Seth, with his caretaker status, could have opened the roads to the undead,” Agad said. “Who knows what fiction they told him to cajole his assistance? Seth did not fail us, Kendra. I failed to rescue him in time.”
“You’re sure Seth is gone?” Kendra asked.
“I’m sure,” Agad said. “He and the Sphinx fled purposefully.”
“We don’t know where?” Kendra asked. Even with danger surrounding them, more than anything, she wanted to find her brother.
“Only how,” Agad said. “Through the barrel, undoubtedly.” The haggard wizard looked tiredly at the others. “We have our own troubles now. We cannot stay here with the full wrath of the Blackwell unleashed. And unless we are extremely fortunate, we will not survive long beyond these walls.”
“The cloak of innocence is undone,” Marat said.
“I saw,” Agad said. “That was when I knew I must rush to your aid.”
“Is there any chance left of getting away?” Kendra asked.
“Not if the dragons are ready for us,” Agad said. “Which I expect they are.”
“Should we try gaseous potions?” Tanu asked.
“Keep them handy,” Agad said. “I would not use them yet. Flee as a gas and the dragons will destroy you with their breath weapons. We are defeated and trapped. The best chance we have left is to negotiate a surrender.”
“We’re giving up?” Kendra asked.
“Not on the war,” Agad said. “But on Wyrmroost, perhaps. Without Blackwell Keep, we have lost. Simple as that.”
The wall of white fire was beginning to dwindle. Wraiths were visible behind it, hesitant but near, their numbers growing.
“Maybe we can still sneak away,” Newel said.
“I will cloak us in the best distracter spell I can muster,” Agad said. “Through the door on my count. Three, two, one.”
Tess looked terrified. Kendra took her hand. Knox didn’t look so well either. When he caught Kendra’s gaze, he tried to smile. “Are we going to be dragon food?”
“I hope not,” Kendra said.
Marat held the door open as Agad and the satyrs exited. Kendra, Tanu, Knox, and Tess followed. Marat brought up the rear.
Kendra beheld an empty field, bordered on one side by the gray wall of the keep and on the others by trees, the stillness eerie after revenants and wraiths and fire. A soft breeze ruffled the tall grass. How did this quiet scenery exist so near the perils they had faced?
For a moment she felt hesitant relief.
But only for a moment.
As the door to Blackwell Keep shut, the colossal form of Celebrant landed in the field in front of Kendra, platinum scales glowing in the moonlight. Other dragons alighted all around them, quickly filling the field and cutting off any avenue of escape. The satyrs became immobilized with fear. The courage potions left Tanu, Knox, and Tess able to move.
“Pathetic concealment spell,” Celebrant gloated in a voice like a boisterous choir of men speaking in unison. “Look who we have here. It seems we have caught the crab outside of its shell.”
Agad stepped forward, stumbling a bit. “We have come to negotiate surrender.”
Celebrant laughed darkly. “You have come to negotiate, have you? I never received an invitation. It appears to me you are fleeing your fallen stronghold.”
“Nevertheless, we are prepared to negotiate,” Agad maintained.
“I must admit I enjoy this talk of surrender from the mighty Agad,” Celebrant said. “Are you still pleased to have traded your claws and fangs for robes?”
“I stand by my decisions,” Agad said. “What are your terms?”
“My first demand is that before negotiations begin, you must die,” Celebrant said.
“Very well,” Agad said, straightening. “We will decide this by combat. You against me.”
Kendra’s eyes strayed to the damaged spot on Celebrant’s chest where Madrigus had injured him in combat. Would the injury give Agad a chance?
“You misunderstand,” Celebrant said. “I was not proposing combat. This is a war. You have already lost this battle. You have no privileges. I need grant you no quarter.”
“You are asking for my life,” Agad said.
“Asking, telling, taking,” Celebrant said. “Take your pick.”
“If I refuse?” Agad said.
“No negotiations with the others,” Celebrant said. “And I take your life just the same.”
“No,” Marat said.
Agad raised his good hand to halt his brother. “I’m injured, Camarat. Deeply. Perhaps fatally already. I might have mustered one last grand attack. But this may accomplish more good.”
“I grow impatient,” Celebrant said.
“Very well,” Agad said, striding unsteadily toward Celebrant. He fell to his knees before the dragon.
“After all of these years, it is pleasant to see you submit,” Celebrant said. Jaws flexing open, his head snaked toward the old wizard.
Kendra turned her head and covered Tess’s eyes. When she looked back, Celebrant jerked his head up, swallowing. Agad was gone.
“Subpar for a human,” Celebrant said. “Almost no decent meat on those old bones. Who speaks for you now? The caretaker, I presume?”
“That’s me,” Kendra said, stepping forward.
“There you are,” Celebrant said, eyes alight with triumph. “For one so young, you have been a nuisance, but you are finally out of tricks, allies, and hiding places. Would you care to hear my terms?”
“All right,” Kendra said, trying to bury her grief for the moment. The others were counting on her. She glanced over at Knox and Tess. Hopefully the terms would allow some of them to survive.
“I invite you to formally surrender and trust my mercy,” Celebrant said. “Give me the caretaker’s medallion and I will consider whether to let you and your comrades depart in peace.”
Kendra looked back at Marat. “Surrender and the sanctuary has officially fallen,” he said.
“Or of course I could devour all of you now and claim the victory I have already won,” Celebrant said.
Kendra wondered if there might be a reason he needed her official surrender. Would some barriers remain in place without it?
“I’ll surrender if you promise to spare us,” Kendra said.
“Were you absent for this discussion with Agad?” Celebrant asked. “You are in no position to haggle. I do not need your surrender. Make your choice or I destroy all of you this instant.”
“Fine,”
Kendra said, angry as she took off the caretaker’s medallion. She wished for the sword Vasilis. For a moment she considered her sack of gales, but she knew it was only effective against airborne dragons. “I surrender.” She threw the medallion toward the feet of the towering dragon.
“We have reached our destined ending,” Celebrant said. “I accept your surrender. And now all of you must die.”
“What about mercy?” Kendra cried, thinking first of Tess.
“Mercy is for those who have not insulted me,” Celebrant said. “Mercy is for those who surrender before they have been utterly abased. You were foolish to ever oppose me. I will delight in providing the exact ending you deserve.”
“Enough!” boomed a voice like thunder.
From out of the sky, a man descended, landing beside Kendra. Clad in a dark robe, he had a short white beard and white hair. In one hand he carried a staff. Kendra had never seen him before.
Snarling, Celebrant lunged at the newcomer but was repelled with a flash of red light when his face struck an invisible barrier. Celebrant opened his mouth and released a stream of white energy, but it splashed harmlessly against the barrier, brightening the night with a harsh glare.
At last Celebrant relented, glaring at the stranger. “Who are you and where have you come from?” the Dragon King asked.
“Had you simply shown mercy, you might never have met me,” the newcomer said.
“Clearly you are a wizard, and not one that I know,” Celebrant said.
“Right on the first count,” the wizard said. “Half right on the second.”
Celebrant’s eyes widened. “No.”
“Yes,” the wizard said.
“Dromadus,” Celebrant said.
“Not anymore,” the wizard said. “I am Andromadus from now on.”
“The art of becoming a wizard is lost,” Celebrant declared.
“Not to me,” Andromadus said. “Archadius, the first of this order, taught me long ago. I never expected to apply the knowledge.”
“You were already an embarrassment and an outcast,” Celebrant said. “You once wore my crown. Why would you further dishonor yourself and our kind?”
“You are the embarrassment,” Andromadus said sternly, in a voice that shook the ground. “What honor is there in killing a young human girl who has surrendered? Such an execution is treatment for a worthy adversary. Do you consider her an enemy even now? A worthy opponent? Your better or your equal? Do you take pride in her defeat?”
The questions elicited a murmur from some of the dragons.
“She is an insect to be squashed,” Celebrant said, his head bumping up against the unseen barrier again.
“If so, you would have squashed her,” Andromadus said. “Instead, you had to drive her from Blackwell Keep with the aid of humans and unicorns. And then you solicit her surrender. Never have I begged an insect to submit.”
The assertion was met with silence. Kendra noticed the other dragons staring at Celebrant intently. His status had been placed in question.
“I wanted to ensure no problems with the magical barriers of Wyrmroost,” Celebrant said. “The treaty is strong. With her surrender, our freedom is no longer in question. Dromadus, you have chosen an odd way to die.”
“I will not die today,” Andromadus said. “Neither will Kendra or her friends. You have forgotten your true nature, Celebrant. Dragons are not humans.”
“Dragons will rule over humans,” Celebrant vowed.
“A real dragon would not care to rule over humans!” Andromadus shouted. “A real dragon would not gather his people to a castle like some human lordling. A dragon hunts. A dragon hoards. A dragon assumes authority.”
“Our authority was taken!” Celebrant cried.
“We lost our authority when we organized after human patterns and fought a war like mortals,” Andromadus said. “We lost that war. And, despite our defeat, those humans gave us space to live like dragons. We were in their power. They could have exterminated us.”
“They will regret their failure,” Celebrant said. “We shall exterminate them.”
“Where is the glory in that?” Andromadus challenged. “Some humans helped defeat us, alongside several of our kind who became wizards. But most humans do not even know there was a fight. You wanting to rule humans, to defeat humans, is like a human wanting to rule rabbits or defeat squirrels. It is not dignified. It runs against our very nature. It is not dragonlike.”
“You are not dragonlike!” Celebrant roared.
“I am true to my nature,” Andromadus said. “I side with the humans on this matter. It is time for my form to match my sympathies. This war is bad for dragons, bad for humans, and bad for the world. I now stand against you.”
“The greatest coward of all dragons opposes me,” Celebrant scoffed. “The Dragon King who resigned!”
“There is a kind of courage that looks to fulfill the expectations of others,” Andromadus said. “Some might call it duty. There is another kind that insists on being true to oneself.”
“You cannot stand against us,” Celebrant said harshly.
“I do not wish to fight you,” Andromadus said. “I wish for this war to end. I am still a friend to all dragons. I implore you to turn from this ludicrous path.”
“You fear our victory,” Celebrant exclaimed. “You worry that after our triumph I would root out the decrepit old king and openly put him to shame.”
“You could have attempted that long ago,” Andromadus said.
“You have disgraced yourself more than I ever could,” Celebrant said. “You have become mortal.”
“And you have disgraced the crown,” Andromadus said. “You are leading our kind toward folly and ruin.”
“Not our kind anymore,” Celebrant said. “My kind. And my kind does not want to live like docile pets in a cage. My kind wants the dominance we deserve. This is the dawn of a new and endless age of dragons. Attack!”
The dragons all around the field charged forward, slamming against the unseen barrier Andromadus had raised. The wizard held both hands high, trembling with effort. Judging from the way the dragons pressed against the barrier, Kendra could tell it was curved like a dome.
“You must depart,” Andromadus said to her. “Have I permission to send you?”
“Where?” Kendra asked.
“Away,” Andromadus said. “I will rejoin you when I can. I do not expect you will get a better offer.”
“You’re Dromadus?” Tess asked.
“So I was,” Andromadus said.
“You came!” Tess cheered.
“So I did,” Andromadus said with a small smile.
“Send us,” Kendra said.
“As you wish,” Andromadus said.
Kendra felt her body lurch. Everything temporarily went black, and then she dropped to her knees on a marble floor in a huge room decorated with absurdly oversized furniture. Knox, Tess, Tanu, Marat, and the satyrs were beside her, and directly before her loomed the giant Thronis.
Seated alone at a stone table, Seth tried to spread butter across a hefty slice of wheat bread, but the room was too cold for the butter to smear well. Instead he did his best to shave the butter down to slivers and space them around the bread. He also had a broad bowl of various shellfish cooked in a tomato-based sauce, and a carafe of the kind of milk that allowed him to see magical creatures.
Ronodin and the Sphinx had started the meal with him, but they promptly departed together with a pair of wraiths toting the barrel, leaving Seth alone. The bread and butter tasted satisfying, and he generally liked most of the shellfish, though the black ones were too rubbery. Absently pushing the remaining tidbits around his bowl, Seth wondered what his favorite food might be. He could remember many different kinds of food, but he had no memory of how they tasted, or which he preferred. He had an abstract impression
that many found pie delicious but could match it to no specific flavor.
Water dripped from the ceiling in one corner of the room. He could sense the undead wandering nearby.
Mostly he felt haunted by the wizard at the Blackwell and his warning.
“You’ve been fooled, Seth.”
Though distressed by the problem of the emerging undead, the old man had seemed genuine. Seth had been told the castle was controlled by minotaurs and monsters, but the old wizard had seemed very human, and he had not attacked Seth or the Sphinx for what they had done.
And the old man had known his name—at least, the same name everyone else had been using.
Seth frowned. How might he have been fooled?
What if he had done something terrible? What if unleashing the undead from the well had brought horrors to a peaceful castle? He had seen dead minotaurs, but maybe monsters only worked down in the dungeon. He had granted the undead access to roads. What if those roads led to villages? Was unleashing the undead against anyone ever a fair option? Even if the only victims were monsters?
The old man hadn’t looked like a monster. Could he have been the evil wizard who ruled the monsters? The Sphinx had said the old guy was one of the wizards who had stripped his shadow-charming powers. But if shadow charmers freed the undead to overrun inhabited castles, maybe the Sphinx had deserved some punishment.
Seth had no proof the wizard was honest. Did the wizard really know him? Maybe the wizard knew that Seth had lost his memory and had made the comment to confuse him. But the wizard could as easily have been a dear friend as a dangerous enemy.
For all Seth knew, Ronodin could also be an enemy. Seth still had little context to build from. Ronodin had brought him to the Under Realm and gotten him indentured to the Underking. Seth was having to perform tasks just to stay alive. But Ronodin would argue it was for his good so he could relearn his abilities. Could anyone be trusted? What if it was him against everyone?
Ronodin was vague about so much. He refused to tell Seth exactly how he had lost his memory. He would reveal nothing about where this Under Realm was located. And he avoided specifics about Seth’s history. That seemed suspect, though Ronodin assured him he would learn all in time.