by Brandon Mull
“The Source is cut off?” Seth asked.
“Power still flows from it,” Isadore said. “But not like before. None in this world can visit the Source anymore. The effort also limited the power of the Void, because it always stays in balance with the Source.”
“That would weaken the Fairy Queen and the Underking,” Seth said.
“Considerably,” Isadore agreed. “After Humbuggle realized that the Wizenstone could not be wielded directly, he became the custodian of it and developed the Games. The Giant Queen hates him passionately, but she let him bring the Games here in hopes the sky giants could win the stone back.”
“I saw the Wizenstone,” Seth said. “It looked complete—not like a piece of something else.”
“The Wizenstone and the stones in the crowns were worked into fair shapes,” Isadore said. “They are magical in nature and therefore shapeable by magic. Only the Ethershard looks like a broken piece.”
“I always wondered where those three crowns originated,” Merek said.
“Would finding the Wizenstone heal the nipsie curse?” Calvin asked.
“I don’t think so,” Serena said. “Our people were supposed to deliver the Ethergem to the Fair Folk to prevent the sky war. Instead we stole it from the giants in an unjust war, and the Ethergem was shattered. I think our best hope for removing the curse is to gain forgiveness from the giants.”
“You think that would be enough?” Calvin asked.
“I hope so,” Serena said. “I’m not sure what more could be done.”
“Could the giants wield the Wizenstone?” Seth asked.
“I doubt whether anyone could properly wield it,” Isadore said. “The giants never commanded the Ethergem. It was meant as the power source of Stratos. It kept their realm aloft, and they could siphon power from it to work their magic. But no one giant was allowed to claim the Ethergem as his or her own.”
“Unwieldy or not, the Wizenstone is loaded with more power than was ever meant for this world,” Merek said.
Isadore nodded. “Many crave a chance to channel that power.”
“Do you want that chance?” Seth asked.
“Others simply wish to keep that power out of dangerous hands,” Isadore said.
Calvin slumped to his knees, head bowed. His shoulders shook with sobs.
Serena crossed to him and laid a hand on the back of his neck. “Calvin, what’s wrong?”
“Our quest is hopeless,” he managed, the words sad and halting. “After all this time, all these years of hoping and searching, we never had a chance.”
“Calvin, we still have the prophecy,” Serena said kindly. “You are here, and so is the champion.”
“You don’t want me here,” Calvin said.
“I want you safe,” Serena said. “But the elders sent you, making your claim to the quest as good as mine. With the champion found, who knows what is possible? What use is a prophecy if success comes without struggle?”
Calvin looked up, tears in his eyes, hope returning to his voice. “I suppose the prophecy is meant to keep us going even when the way seems impossible.”
“And your champion is making progress,” Serena said. “He needs to know the location of the Unforgiving Blade. And that is a secret we have uncovered.”
“We found the resting place of the Unforgiving Blade as part of our general studies,” Isadore said. “We didn’t know it would be relevant to the Games. The blade was fashioned from a fragment of Raglamar.”
“The sword that shattered the Ethergem,” Seth said.
“That weapon emerged from the Void brimming with dark power,” Isadore said. “Enough to shatter a gem overloaded with energy from the Source. The Unforgiving Blade was wrought by dark sorcerers with help from the Underking, and it became a powerful talisman of darkness. It was hidden away for the protection of all in the Reliquary of the Wandering Stones.”
“That’s here in Titan Valley!” Merek exclaimed.
“Not nearby,” Isadore said. “Over in the southeastern steppes. Barren wilderness. You’ll never make it there before the Perennial Storm hits.”
“What if we need to make it there before the storm arrives?” Merek asked. He glanced at Basirus. “Could a dragon do it?”
Basirus laughed mirthlessly. “You are presumptuous beyond belief! I know how many dragons you and your kin have slain. What would stop me from flying as high as I could and dropping you onto the sharpest rocks I can find?”
“Have you any idea how many times I’ve died?” Merek asked. “My question was whether a dragon could make it to the reliquary before the storm.”
“The storm is coming from the west,” Basirus said with a sneer. “Conditions are already hazardous for flight, but with the wind at my back, I could make it to the Reliquary of the Wandering Stones ahead of the big show.”
“Would you take us?” Seth asked. “Serena, too?”
Basirus looked at his sister. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been asked to do anything more distasteful.”
Isadore leveled her gaze at Merek. “This is essential to the Games? You have limited time?”
“Something like that,” Merek said.
Isadore and Basirus shared a look; then Isadore glanced back at Merek. “I would have to join you as well.”
Scratching his neck, Merek gave a pensive nod. “Can we have a moment of privacy? I need to consult with Seth and Calvin.”
Isadore shrugged. “We can step outside.” She picked up Serena and stood. Basirus rose as well.
“Do you promise not to eavesdrop?” Seth asked.
Isadore glanced at the candles. “Yes.”
She and Basirus went to the door, footsteps splashing.
“Want me to exit too?” Virgil asked.
“You can stay,” Merek said.
“How does water keep flowing through this room?” Seth asked.
“Pumps powered by the windmills is my guess,” Merek said.
“Good thinking,” Isadore said from the doorway. “Ogres power it if the winds are low. We’re short on time. Try to hurry.” She slid the door closed.
Merek lowered his voice. “The Harp of Ages is located in the Titan Valley Dragon Temple. The temple can be accessed only during the Perennial Storm.”
“We know where to find everything we need to win the Games,” Seth said.
“Neither relic will be easy to obtain,” Merek said. “Time is against us. But from what I gather, the hardest part may be actually claiming the Wizenstone.”
“I think we have to let the dragon take us,” Seth said. “Otherwise the timing won’t work.”
“Me too,” Calvin said. “Though I have to confess, I’m confused by Serena’s choice of partners.”
“She has learned a lot,” Merek said. “Sometimes the goal justifies the means.”
“They might try to steal the Unforgiving Blade,” Seth said.
“They will betray us,” Merek said. “The questions will be how and when.”
“You’ve really died many times?” Seth asked.
“It allows me to take risks,” Merek said. “Like an Eternal, I never die unless I’m killed. And if I’m killed . . . I don’t stay dead.”
“Like the undead?” Seth asked.
“Think opposite,” Merek said. “The undying.”
“The undying are real?” Calvin exclaimed. “I thought they were legendary!”
“Right on both counts,” Merek said. “I’m not immortal, but I’m as close as mortals can get. A lot of magic would have to be undone for me to die. Seth, you are more vulnerable than I am. But I cannot wield a blade wrought from darkness. This won’t work without you.”
“I’m determined to meet Humbuggle and get my memories back,” Seth said. “I’m not going to get a better chance than this. It would be a bigger risk to miss the
opportunity.”
“Agreed,” Merek said, crossing to the door and opening it.
“That didn’t take long,” Isadore said, returning to the room. “Have you decided?”
“We need to reach the reliquary before the storm,” Merek said. “You can join us.”
“Very well,” Isadore said. “The winds are rising. We’ll have to depart almost immediately. Meet outside of Humburgh in two hours. Exit through the gates and go to the far side of the nearest hill. You’ll know the one.”
“We’ll be there,” Seth said. He looked at Virgil. “I’ll need some of my stuff from your house. And can you deliver a message to my cousin at the inn?”
Virgil saluted. “This is the greatest windfall of information about the Games I have ever encountered. I’m yours to command . . . as long as I don’t have to come with you.”
Not again!” Bernosh bellowed.
Warren looked at Kendra nervously. “Another bridge?” he called.
“This is the third ruined crossing!” the giant complained. “It was made of stone! One of the strongest in the whole sanctuary!”
Kendra, Warren, Vanessa, and Tanu sat together inside the portable dungeon. Bernosh had been climbing rough terrain, so the going was slower, and the enormous backpack jounced less sharply. They had learned that Bernosh could hear their words without difficulty.
“It’s deliberate,” Tanu said. “This is a concerted effort. They’re sabotaging bridges.”
“Who would dare?” Bernosh fumed.
“We told you,” Kendra said. “The dragons are plotting against you. This is more proof. They don’t want anyone getting near the Harp of Ages.”
“In all my days, I have never endured such an insult,” Bernosh seethed. “I will get you to the Dragon Temple if I have to scale every cliff at Titan Valley.”
“It may come to that if the bridges are down,” Warren murmured.
A violent gust of wind tore through the portable dungeon. For a moment, Bernosh had to brace himself.
“Rain will be here soon,” Bernosh said.
“I don’t love wet cliffs,” Warren said.
“Wet or dry, rain or shine, I can climb anything,” Bernosh said.
“Please let him be right,” Warren muttered.
“The sky to the west is getting murky,” Tanu said, peering out a window.
Kendra saw inky, black clouds spreading on the horizon. Pulses of lightning brightened pockets of the tenebrous mass, highlighting otherwise unseen textures of the thunderheads.
“This is not yet the onset,” Vanessa said. “We have to get to the Dragon Temple before the storm hits or we may not get there at all.”
“We’ll make it,” Bernosh grumbled, starting down the side of the cliff. The portable dungeon lurched and rocked with his movements. “The terrain is challenging, but the distance is not great.”
As they descended, the deep canyon provided shelter from the rising wind. At the bottom, Bernosh waded along a rushing river, the water above his knees in the deep places. During several stretches, unruly water flooded the canyon from wall to wall, endlessly tumbling in churning rapids and spraying up to the giant’s waist. Kendra wondered how much more the river would rise with the oncoming storm.
“There you are!” a high, male voice called from the barred window.
Kendra turned to see a male fairy in his young teens sliding through the bars to drop onto the dungeon floor. His shaggy silver hair complemented his metallic wings. She recognized the impishly handsome face, though he seldom appeared in this form.
“Raxtus?” Kendra asked.
“Please, no photos,” Raxtus said. “I hate this form. But I figured the giant would freak out if I approached as a dragon. Plus, I could fit through the bars.”
“Good strategy,” Tanu said. “Bernosh is not happy right now. Somebody has taken out their backcountry bridges.”
“Dragons,” Raxtus said. “I’ve seen several since arriving at Titan Valley. Dragons that don’t belong here.”
“They’re probably slipping in as visitors to the Games,” Vanessa said. “Using their human avatars.”
“Whatever they’re doing, it is large scale,” Raxtus said. “They’re taking up positions. It all feels coordinated.”
“Would they attack during the storm?” Kendra asked.
“Not unless they’re suicidal,” Raxtus said. “The high winds would destroy them. I’m about as aerodynamic as dragons get, and I was already struggling with the choppy air. You guys were hard to find. If Kendra didn’t shine so brightly, I might not have reached you.”
“How did you know where to find me?” Kendra asked.
“The Fairy King sent me,” Raxtus said.
“Where is he?” Kendra asked. “Is he all right?”
Raxtus flitted over to stand on the arm of the bench beside Kendra. “Still alive, last I saw him, but devastated,” the fairy said.
“I heard he gave Ronodin access to the Fairy Realm,” Kendra said.
“That fits,” Raxtus replied. “He didn’t fully confide in me, but he went on about how he tried to warn the queen, and how it was all his fault. He seemed heartbroken and incoherent. He escaped the Fairy Realm with me at the last possible moment, after sending messages with some astrids and fairies.”
“One of his fairies brought me a message,” Kendra said. “I didn’t know he made it out.”
“The Fairy King had me drop him off elsewhere at Titan Valley,” Raxtus said.
“He’s here?” Kendra asked hopefully.
“Since his stay inside Zzyzx, he has been a shadow of his former self,” Raxtus said. “Now he is a shadow of a shadow. He looked grim when he sent me away to find you. I worry he came here to die. Or maybe as a form of exile.”
“Where did you leave him?” Kendra asked.
“A lonely plateau in the middle of nowhere,” Raxtus said. “The kind of place you end up after being lost for days, heading in the wrong direction. No settlements nearby. As I flew away, the only life forms I saw were a few nomadic giants.”
“Does Ronodin have any power over you?” Kendra asked.
“No,” Raxtus said. “I’m an adopted son of the Fairy Realm. The crown has no actual claim on me. But by the time we left, I saw several fairies taking a turn for the worse. They were darkening, Kendra. Some resisted better than others.”
“Sounds like the shadow plague,” Kendra said.
“Watch yourself around fairies,” Raxtus warned.
“Good tip,” Kendra said.
Bernosh abandoned the river and started climbing a cliff. Raxtus looked around uncertainly as the portable dungeon shifted and rocked in new ways.
Raxtus held up a hand beside his mouth and whispered, “How good a climber is this guy?”
“He seems skillful,” Vanessa said. “And he is all confidence.”
“Let’s hope his abilities match his muscles,” Raxtus said. “No fair when a guy is a giant and a weight lifter.”
“Do I hear a new voice?” Bernosh asked.
“I’m a friend of theirs,” Raxtus called. “A wimpy little fairy.”
“All is well?” Bernosh asked.
“He is welcome,” Kendra said.
“I will have you to the Dragon Temple in a matter of minutes,” Bernosh asserted.
Raxtus put a hand by his mouth and whispered again. “The noise of the river must have been masking our conversation.”
As Bernosh reached the top of the canyon wall, the wind blowing through the dungeon windows became a nuisance. Thunder growled ominously as the armada of dark clouds overtook the sky. The dungeon rocked as Bernosh advanced.
“I’ve been worried about you,” Kendra said. “When you left me, dragons were chasing you.”
“After I set you down, evading the other dragons was no problem,�
�� Raxtus said. “It’s hard for them to chase a dragon who flies faster, maneuvers better, and can become nearly invisible.”
“Where have you been?” Kendra asked.
“Mostly hiding out in the Fairy Realm, after Wyrmroost fell,” Raxtus said. “Sorry I couldn’t help more.”
“You saved my life,” Kendra said. “I’m sorry for what it cost you.”
Raxtus shook his head. “Saving you freed me. It helped me finally grow up. Working with my dad, I had what I always wanted, but I wasn’t happy. Not even close. You helped me embrace who I really am. I never would have been happy any other way.”
“But the dragons are hunting you now,” Kendra said.
“Which should tell you all you need to know about my father,” Raxtus said. “It’s his way or nothing.”
“That’s tough,” Kendra sympathized.
“Forget him,” Raxtus said. “The Fairy King sent me with gifts. None are fairy talismans—such things would not be safe with Ronodin wearing the crown. But this is the king’s signet ring, made by unicorns. He suggests you wear it only at dire need. Powered by your magical energy, it will shine brightly enough to blind any who look at it, including you.”
“Wow,” Kendra said, accepting the ring from his little hands. “I’ll treat it carefully. Hopefully I can return it to him when this is over.” It was hefty, like a class ring, set with tiny white stones that together formed the likeness of a rearing unicorn. The longer Kendra held it, the brighter the stones shone, and the more the silvery metal gleamed with inner fire.
“See how it shines just from contact with you?” Raxtus asked. “That isn’t normal. Be cautious when you put it on.”
“Is that adamant?” Warren asked, craning to better view the ring.
“Yes,” Raxtus said. “Kendra, the Fairy King also wanted you to have this seed.” He held out a little seed, about the size of a cornflake, then handed it to Kendra. “Plant it in the rain of the Perennial Storm and give it instructions. The spruce will grow, and a hamadryad will emerge. Her name is Cyllia, from a line of hamadryads known as the guardians. He suggests you instruct her to protect you.”
“She’ll obey me?” Kendra asked.