Seth faced the dark brown horse. “Want to get out of here? Take me to the Fair Folk?”
Noble gave a loud stamp.
“Isn’t that a lot of horse for a beginner?” Henrick asked.
“It’s a Luvian,” Obun said. “Sure, they have different dispositions, but don’t forget how superior any of them are to a common horse.”
“Seth is the new caretaker of Wyrmroost,” Didger explained to Noble. “We need him safe and sound.”
Noble gave a light stamp.
“It’s a deal,” Seth said.
“Is that all right?” Kendra quietly asked Henrick.
“I suppose,” he grumbled.
“You two head over to the play area while we get them saddled,” Obun said.
Seth led the way to an open area where a pair of horses stood at opposite ends of a table with a chess board between them. A white horse with gray dots gripped a bishop in its teeth and took a pawn.
“Now I’ve seen everything,” Kendra said.
“What kind of play area is this?” Seth complained. “It’s all board games.” He was right. On other tables Kendra saw checkers, backgammon, and Scrabble. “Don’t they ever run around?”
“Any horses can run around,” Kendra said. “It’s incredible that these are playing chess.”
“Starshine and Socrates are chess fanatics,” Henrick said. “They spend half the day playing the game, and the other half reading books on the subject.”
“Do they ever go outside?” Seth asked.
“There’s an exercise yard,” Henrick said. “And messengers ride them to the different territories.”
Seth looked up at Henrick. “Are you sure we shouldn’t take griffins?”
“We need the protection of the High Road,” the alcetaur said.
“What higher road than the sky?” Seth asked. “Are you sure this isn’t because you’re too heavy?”
“I’m an alcetaur,” Henrick said, straightening. “I don’t ever need a griffin to transport me. But the last thing we need is dragons slaughtering our new caretakers in flight.”
“Not the goal,” Seth agreed.
“Besides, griffin riders need to take the correct precautions,” Henrick said. “Although griffins are normally reliable if you express a destination, no intelligent rider takes flight without a map.”
“I have a map,” Seth said, patting the satchel at his side. “Got it from Brunwin this morning.”
“Have you looked at it?” Henrick asked.
“Enough to know Terrabelle is northeast from here,” Seth said. “We have to go through a pass to get there. It’s in a big valley surrounded by mountains. I have a compass just in case.”
“Seth likes to bring an emergency kit,” Kendra said.
“I even have some magical stuff in it,” Seth said. “The giant Thronis gave me a figurine of a leviathan that can turn into a real one, and a toy-sized tower that can transform into a big one.”
“That is . . . sensible,” Henrick said warily. “I have some magical items of my own that I use in a pinch. It’s wise to be prepared.” He scowled. “Unless a compass means you’re planning to leave the road.”
“Why?” Seth asked innocently. “What’s off the road?”
“An agonizing death,” Henrick said emphatically.
“The road sounds better,” Seth said.
“Don’t think for one moment that this is a game,” Henrick warned.
“What?” Seth asked. “The horses playing chess?”
Kendra wanted to punch him.
“Leaving the relative safety of Blackwell Keep,” Henrick said, his voice alarmingly calm and even. “I admire your courage. I’d rather have jokes over cowardice. But I have no patience for fools. And no interest in bringing corpses home to your grandparents. That is a real possibility at Wyrmroost. Many have died here over the years. Many more will perish in the future. It takes preparation and caution and skill and experience and yes, a little luck, not to be one of them.”
“What about an untamable griffin that does lots of loop-the-loops?” Seth asked. “Would that help?”
“This is going to be a long afternoon,” Henrick grumbled.
Cantering along the High Road on Glory, the wind in her face, Kendra finally realized how badly she had needed to get out of Blackwell Keep. No gloomy rooms, no whispered conversations, no worried faces—just a long road, a big sky, and rugged wilderness all around her.
Kendra had been to Wyrmroost before, but she had never belonged here. There had been no protected roads on the way to the Dragon Temple. They had scurried around like thieves, vulnerable at every step. She hadn’t fully comprehended how hard it was to enjoy the scenery when you were worried about getting devoured.
Today she not only had full permission to be at Wyrmroost—she was a caretaker! And she was being guided to a friendly destination along a secure route by a careful expert who knew the sanctuary well.
While riding a horse that appreciated Jane Austen.
Sometimes life was good.
Not too far into the ride, Henrick came near Kendra, pointing to the north. “We have company.”
It took her a moment to spot the pair of dragons heading their way, one with golden scales, the other a bright red. The dragons circled high above but occasionally swooped near the road. Due to their size and ferocious appearance, Kendra felt extremely exposed. She kept reminding herself that an invisible barrier was protecting them.
“Intimidation,” Henrick told Kendra after the red dragon glided particularly close. “Don’t let it get to you. We’re safe on the road.”
“Does it matter that they know where we’re going?” Seth asked.
“I don’t think so,” Henrick said. “This visit to the Fair Folk should be no surprise. Celebrant is just making a statement. He wants you to know he is watching. He wants you to feel like trespassers inside of his sanctuary. That causes real harm only if you believe him.”
After a long run, the road began to climb more steeply and the horses slowed to a trot. Mendigo sat behind Kendra, wooden hands on her waist, metal hooks jangling with the bouncy gait. Mountains loomed ahead of them, pockets of snow shining white near the craggy peaks.
“You’ll soon see why this is called the High Road,” Henrick announced. “We’ll rise a good ways before dropping into the valley.”
“Hey, Henrick,” Seth said, “are you faster than these horses?”
“We don’t want to exhaust the mounts,” Henrick said. “They need their reserves in case of an emergency.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” Seth observed.
Henrick gave him a pointed look. “The Luvians have remarkable speed. But not many creatures on four legs run faster than I do.”
“How did you end up at Blackwell Keep?” Kendra asked. “The outdoors seems more like your element.”
“I’m the gamekeeper,” Henrick said. “I spend most of my time roaming the sanctuary.”
“Still, how did you get started?” Seth pressed. “Did lots of alcetaurs want the job?”
“It didn’t have to be an alcetaur,” Henrick said. “And no other alcetaurs wanted the job. We’re a solitary breed.”
“No families?” Kendra asked.
“Just temporarily,” Henrick said. “When we’re young. Alcetaurs aren’t very numerous to begin with. There is no organized community, like with the other woodland taurans.”
“The other what?” Seth asked.
“Rumitaurs,” Henrick said. “Men with bodies of elk. And cervitaurs, men with bodies of deer. They move in groups. Alcetaurs spend most of our time on our own.”
“How old were you when you left your mother?” Kendra asked.
Henrick gave her a funny look. “My . . . my mother was unusual. She stayed with me for a long time. Much longer than normal.”
; “How long?” Seth asked.
“Well into adulthood,” he said, a small catch in his voice.
“Did you live in her basement?” Seth asked.
Kendra wished for a rock to throw at her brother.
“I don’t understand,” Henrick said.
“Human reference,” Kendra said. “Sounds like your mother meant a lot to you.”
“She taught me valuable lessons,” Henrick said, his voice more stable. “I sought out Agad years ago at her encouragement.”
“Get a job,” Seth murmured in an old-lady voice.
“It has given me purpose,” Henrick said. “I am not the most sociable person at Blackwell Keep, but you should meet some of the other alcetaurs.”
“Jerks?” Seth asked.
“Some of them,” Henrick admitted.
“I knew some centaurs,” Seth said. “Jerks too.”
“Not surprising,” Henrick said. “What surprised me is that you rode one.”
“They can be all right sometimes,” Seth said. “Just don’t steal their precious unicorn horn.”
“I can see how that would end badly,” Henrick said. “They’re surly enough without a reason.”
“I’ve given too many creatures those kinds of reasons,” Seth said. “I hope it doesn’t catch up to me.”
“Me too,” Henrick said with a laugh. “At least today you’re on a fast horse.”
The Fair Folk
Kendra, Seth, and Henrick paused at the top of the pass to take in the view. The lush valley featured groves of trees, square patches of farmland, expansive fields, a crystal blue lake, several streams, and a few ponds. Farmhouses dotted the valley, along with a few towers and a big mill with a waterwheel beside one of the main streams.
A single town not far from the lake had a wall around it with towers flanking the gate and at the corners. The houses were mostly made of stone or brick. Many had gables, turrets, and swooping rooftops. A few were connected by covered walkways above the cobblestone streets. An impressive castle dominated the center of the town, complete with pinnacled towers.
“It looks like a fairy tale,” Kendra said.
“The Fair Folk know how to make an area pleasant,” Henrick agreed.
Kendra looked back the other way. The red dragon and the gold one circled in the distance behind them. “Are they losing interest?” Kendra asked.
“Dragons stay away from this valley,” Henrick said. “The protections are strong.”
“Can we run downhill?” Seth asked.
Henrick glanced at the horses. “What do you say?”
Both mounts stamped once.
“Off we go,” Henrick said.
Kendra enjoyed the rush of speed as they descended into the valley, the mountains around them rising as they lost altitude. Despite the speed and the small saddle, Kendra felt secure because Glory ran so smoothly. Mendigo jingled lightly behind her.
Before too long, they were cantering across the valley floor toward the walled town. As they passed the mill, Kendra noticed three large brutes who looked like ogres hauling bulging sacks. They paused to watch Kendra, Seth, and Henrick go by.
“Are those Fair Folk?” Kendra asked, worried the name was false advertising.
“Ogres run the mill under contract with the Fair Folk,” Henrick said. “A relatively gentle breed. They grind dragon meal.”
“Made from dragons?” Seth asked.
“Made for dragons,” Henrick said. “A substitute for fresh meat that most dragons enjoy more than they care to admit. It’s Terrabelle’s biggest export, and it helps promote a gentler sanctuary. Every dragon likes to hunt, but they aren’t as eager with full stomachs.”
“Oatmeal for dragons?” Kendra asked.
“More or less,” Henrick said. “It’s a secret recipe derived from grains created by the Fair Folk. I have a hunch more than a little magic is involved. By nature dragons are carnivores.”
Kendra watched farms go by until they reached the open gate of the walled settlement. Henrick slowed their progress to a walk. Trumpets let out a flourish as they approached. People lining the road beyond the wall began to cheer.
“Is this for us?” Kendra asked, certain they had blundered onto a parade route.
“You are only the second new caretakers in many decades,” Henrick said. “Though Marat became caretaker only a few months ago, your appointment is a major occasion here at Wyrmroost.”
“How do they already know?” Kendra asked.
“Marat exchanged messages with Lord Dalgorel about your visit,” Henrick said.
The cheering surged and the trumpets blared again as they started up the cobblestone road beyond the gates. Applauding onlookers lined not only the road but also many nearby rooftops and balconies.
“This is more like it,” Seth said with relish.
Though Kendra found her brother’s comment embarrassing, she couldn’t resist a delighted smile. The welcome from the crowd was overwhelming.
Moving up the road, Kendra realized that she had never encountered a comparable setting in all of her adventures on different magical preserves. This wasn’t a group of centaurs or satyrs forming a loose community. This wasn’t a single cottage or even a castle—it was an entire town, almost a city. It was orderly and detailed. She saw shops and eateries, inns and banks, townhomes and apartments. Thousands of people lived here. The tidy, timeworn buildings had history. It felt like she had crossed into another age, or into the pages of a storybook. The modern world where she had lived and gone to school before coming to Fablehaven had never felt farther away.
People continued to wave and cheer, and Kendra began to wave back. As she became less astounded by the crowd, she began to notice individuals in the throng. Equally balanced between men and women, most of the people appeared to be in the prime of life. Nobody looked extremely old, and she noticed few children and no babies. These Fair Folk looked like regular humans except for one outstanding commonality.
Every face she focused on was incredibly attractive.
The women were gorgeous. The men striking. Not all in the same way—she saw a wide variety of hair colors, facial features, and skin tones, though each person tended to be tall and physically fit.
This was not a town of beauty pageant contestants. It was an impossible collection of beauty pageant winners. These were not the people who showed up to audition; these were the people who got the part. Every countenance shone like that of a bride on her wedding day or a young man entranced by his first love. In fact, the glow of their faces seemed to be literal, as if light fell on them a little more brightly and evenly than on anything else. A panel of judges trying to determine the most beautiful among either the men or the women would have to disband in frustration.
Their physical beauty made the warm reception feel more flattering to Kendra, as if inexplicably all the best-looking and most popular people in the world had decided to celebrate her. Yet there was no condescension in their expressions, no hint that this exuberant welcome was a joke or a mistake.
Could it be genuine? Or was there a catch? The reception seemed too generous to be true.
A single rider came loping down the road on a white horse. For a moment Kendra wondered if the crowds might have gathered for him, but all attention clearly remained on her, Seth, and Henrick.
When the rider drew near, he reined his splendid mount to a stop and raised both hands. The crowd immediately quieted.
The young rider appeared to be around sixteen, his dark hair effortlessly stylish, his golden-brown complexion flawless, his sea-green eyes playful and intelligent. This horseman could be the number-one draw at box offices around the world, regardless of the quality of his movies, or the top pop star in the music industry, no matter what melodies he chose to sing.
Bracken was the best-looking male Kendra had seen in real lif
e. With a very different look, this rider was his equal. Though none of the men in the crowd were less attractive than this young man, most looked too adult to make Kendra feel as flustered as she did now.
“Welcome to Terrabelle, Kendra and Seth Sorenson,” the young rider proclaimed in a clear voice. “I am Garreth, second son of Lord Dalgorel. We only recently learned of your surprise appointment as the new caretakers of Wyrmroost.”
“When they were presented as candidates to Celebrant,” Henrick explained, “the Dragon King forced Marat to instate them immediately or never.”
“So we were informed by Marat,” the young man said. “Well met, Henrick.”
“Well met, Garreth,” the alcetaur replied.
Garreth looked to Kendra, unveiling a smile that made her feel adored and forgiven. “Follow me to the palace. My father awaits our arrival.” He winked. “We all look forward to meeting you.”
Garreth swept an arm at the crowd, and the applause resumed.
Following him up the road, Kendra could not help feeling undeserving of the jubilant reception. Though the cheers looked and sounded sincere, how could she accept the adulation? These gorgeous people didn’t know her. She had done nothing to earn their praise. Was it manipulative? Were the Fair Folk trying to disarm her? The longer she observed the welcome, the more guarded she became inside.
She noticed Seth having a good time. He laughed and waved and pointed at individuals in the crowd. By contrast, Henrick remained solemn, eyes on the road ahead, enduring the attention without acknowledging it. Kendra hoped she was striking a balance between the two—friendly and grateful but not showboating.
The palace gate stood open. Leaving the masses behind, Kendra rode into a spacious courtyard with glossy tiles that looked better suited for a fancy room indoors. Liveried servants took charge of the horses. After dismounting, Kendra became more aware of how all the people, both males and females, were taller than she was. Kendra had almost caught up to her mother, who seemed to be a pretty average height for a woman, but the typical height among the Fair Folk looked to be a good six inches taller. Though there were many curious, well-dressed Fair Folk in the courtyard, they watched with polite interest rather than applauding.