You should come home, the Fairy Queen pressed. A powerful feeling of longing accompanied the statement. Suddenly Kendra felt like she was eavesdropping on something intensely private. Bracken shot her a glance, as if guessing her feelings.

  “Necessity dictates otherwise,” Bracken said. “I still have much work to do, your majesty. Nearly in a position to open Zzyzx, the Society is now run directly by demons. I must oppose them while there remains any chance to thwart their designs. Perhaps we can converse privately in a moment. First, Kendra has a favor to ask.”

  “Me?” Kendra exclaimed, glancing at Bracken uncomfortably. “Seems like you have this handled.”

  “Go ahead,” he urged.

  Kendra cleared her throat, feeling self-conscious. Her conversations with the Fairy Queen had always been unobserved. To make matters worse, it was clear that Bracken had a long, close relationship with her. Shouldn’t he be the one making requests? “We are desperate for a way out of Living Mirage. Warren is with us too.”

  You have not transformed any of my astrids yet. I have tried to send them in your direction. I lost track of you when you came to this accursed preserve. No astrids are currently near. Yet even without my warriors, I believe I have a solution to your dilemma. It will require a little time.

  “Thank you, your majesty,” Kendra said.

  Bracken winked at her. “Could you give me a few minutes alone with her? There are a few unicorn-type matters I would like to discuss.”

  “Sure,” Kendra said, standing, the dismissal making her even more uncomfortable.

  “I’m glad you were here for this much,” Bracken assured her. “Hopefully you now have good reason to trust me. Stay here on the island. We’ll walk back together.”

  Feeling a little better, Kendra strolled down the slope to the edge of the radiant water. She could not help wondering what Bracken and the Fairy Queen were discussing. Was she angry at him for getting captured? Did they simply need to catch up? What was their relationship? Did the Fairy Queen have as big a crush on him as the other fairies seemed to? Would the Fairy Queen put more pressure on him to come to her realm? Kendra figured if any creature belonged in an unspoiled realm of purity, it would be a unicorn.

  But it was hard to think of Bracken as a unicorn. He seemed way too human. He just felt like a really cool friend. Kendra looked up the slope, watching him as he knelt beside the little pool, his back to her. What a relief to know she could trust him! He was right that an endorsement from the Fairy Queen allowed Kendra to lay aside her concerns about his legitimacy. After so many betrayals, it felt heavenly to know there was somebody she could truly count on.

  After some time, Bracken came down the slope. He looked rejuvenated.

  “You’re all smiles,” Kendra said.

  “I missed that complete form of communication the Fairy Queen can provide,” Bracken said. “Mind to mind, heart to heart. And I missed her. She is very important to me. Since her consort fell, she has borne a very heavy burden alone.”

  “What kind of help do you think she’ll send?” Kendra asked.

  “I’ll be curious to see,” he responded vaguely. “Let’s go tell Warren help is on the way.”

  Chapter 17

  Preparations

  Newel and Doren arrived at the manor just as Seth was deciding they wouldn’t show. Seth had waited on the porch for nearly an hour after contacting Bracken, his confidence steadily waning. He was on the verge of asking Hugo to take him back to the main house when the satyrs came scampering across the unkempt lawn. Each had a pack over his shoulder. Newel wore a dented helm. Doren had a bow.

  “The word is abroad that Graulas has claimed this house,” Newel said by way of greeting.

  “We were hoping it was a hoax,” Doren added.

  “No trick,” Seth said loudly. “I was asked to claim it on his behalf.” He lowered his voice. “Please don’t yell about my hoaxes where any imp can hear.”

  “Right,” Newel said with a knowing wink. He cupped a hand beside his mouth. “We had better clear out of here before the dark master of this haunted abode returns!”

  “You don’t have to oversell it, either,” Seth whispered.

  “We brought you some gear,” Doren said, unshouldering his pack and rummaging through the contents. He pulled out an oval shield about a yard tall. “Heroes need proper equipment.”

  “Thanks,” Seth said.

  “Adamant,” Doren said proudly, handing over the shield. “We fished it out of the same tar pit where we found the shirt of mail.”

  “Probably all belonged to the same careless adventurer,” Newel speculated. “Too much money, not enough talent.”

  Seth hefted the shield. It felt light, almost like a toy or a prop, but he knew that if it was made of adamant, it was stronger than steel and absolutely priceless. “What a great gift.”

  “We were reserving it to trade for batteries,” Newel explained. “But in light of our new arrangement—well, investors need to protect their interests.”

  “It would be a shame if I died before you got your generator,” Seth said.

  Doren nudged Newel. “The shield isn’t all.”

  From his pack, Newel removed a sword in a battered leather scabbard. Jewels adorned the golden hilt. Newel presented it to Seth, who drew the sword. It felt too light. “This isn’t adamant too?” Seth asked.

  “Tempered adamant,” Doren gushed. “We found just the naked blade. The edge is keen. The nipsies crafted the hilt, and we salvaged the scabbard from an old scrap heap.”

  “The nipsies couldn’t have made it just now?” Seth asked.

  “No,” Newel chuckled. “It took them six weeks. We were simply preparing another item for barter.”

  Seth belted on the scabbard and sheathed the sword. “Why don’t you guys have armor?”

  Newel snorted derisively. “Slows us down. We prefer to avoid injuries by not getting hit.”

  “What about the helmet?” Seth asked.

  Newel rapped the helm with his knuckles. “This old thing? It’s my good-luck charm.”

  “Tell him the story,” Doren urged.

  “Satyrs never wear armor, including helmets,” Newel began, using his hands expressively. “But years ago I was in a play, and the helm was part of my costume. During the big battle scene, a few of us were assailing a castle. We had quite a set. The main tower must have been fifteen feet tall, fashioned from real stone. Anyhow, as we actors were laying siege, a big chunk of the battlement dislodged from atop the tower.”

  “Shoddy workmanship,” Doren inserted.

  “Definitely not part of the rehearsed scene,” Newel emphasized.

  “Newel was delivering a line,” Doren laughed.

  “Behold, the enemy falters!” Newel quoted in a bold voice, raising a finger skyward for dramatic effect. “I was facing the audience and focused on my diction, so the falling stonework blindsided me.”

  “Biggest laugh of the night,” Doren chuckled.

  “Those might have been my last words if not for this helmet,” Newel said. “Cumbersome or not, any object that lucky deserves to be worn in battle.”

  “Is that how the helmet got dented?” Seth asked.

  “Exactly,” Newel confirmed.

  “Newel wouldn’t let anyone repair it,” Doren said.

  “I’m surprised you weren’t injured,” Seth said.

  “I was unconscious for almost two days,” Newel clarified.

  “His understudy was elated,” Doren said.

  Newel smirked. “The botched scene was such a success, I had to give up the theater. All everybody wanted from me thereafter was slapstick. And trust me, with satyrs involved, slapstick hurts a lot.”

  “He came home from rehearsals mottled with bruises,” Doren remembered.

  “I see Doren brought a bow,” Seth pointed out.

  “He’s a handy archer,” Newel said. “I prefer a sling.”

  Seth motioned for them to lean close and lowered his voice to a faint whisper. “I got our assignment from Patton. It will take us on quite a journey. I think we should probably get Vanessa out of the Quiet Box to help us. What do you guys say?”

  “Absolutely,” Newel affirmed. “Best idea I’ve heard all day.”

  “I’ll second that,” Doren said gladly.

  Seth gave the satyrs a doubtful scowl. “Wait a minute. You guys just think she’s pretty.”

  “I’ve been around a long time,” Newel said. “Vanessa Santoro is not just pretty.”

  “He’s right,” Doren agreed. “She’s walking dynamite. My pulse is rising just talking about her.”

  “She also might be a traitor,” Seth stressed.

  “The lethal temptress,” Newel said with relish. “Even better.”

  “It will definitely spice up the adventure,” Doren encouraged.

  “I’m obviously talking to the wrong guys,” Seth sighed.

  “Believe me,” Newel said cockily, “you’re talking to the right guys. We’ve been chasing babes since the world was flat.”

  Seth rolled his eyes.

  “The boy needs objectivity,” Doren scolded. “He’s leading this expedition. He needs valid opinions. Seth, considering all sides of this, I am deeply convinced that the right move to make would be to bring Vanessa. And any outfits she may require. And makeup. And perfume. And hair products. Whatever she needs.”

  Closing his eyes, Seth rubbed his face. Did the fate of the world really rest on these clowns? Should he even be involving them? At least he had Hugo.

  Newel slugged him on the arm. “Seth? Lighten up! We’re just kidding around. Keeping up morale!”

  “We know you’ll do the right thing,” Doren said.

  Seth opened his eyes. “I actually think Vanessa might be on our side. Plus, we may need her help to get where we need to go.”

  “If you bring her, we’ll watch your back,” Newel promised.

  “A man would be a fool to trust a woman that gorgeous,” Doren murmured shrewdly.

  “That’s a little more helpful,” Seth said. “We have a lot to do. We should get back to the main house.”

  “Lead on,” Newel said.

  “Have either of you caught a leprechaun before?” Seth asked as Hugo lifted him.

  Both satyrs perked up.

  “We haven’t,” Newel said.

  “We’ve tried,” Doren added. “Did Patton have some advice on the subject?”

  “He did,” Seth said as they started across the yard. “It’s part of our mission.”

  Newel rubbed his hands together. “This adventure keeps sounding better and better.”

  “You just have to get into the right spirit,” Doren laughed.

  Seth smiled weakly, quietly wondering if the satyrs would remain as eager once the undertaking stopped seeming fun. “Do you guys want Hugo to carry you?”

  “How slow do you think we are?” Newel complained. “Go on, we’ll keep up.”

  Hugo loped out of the yard. Seth thought the golem was going a little slower than he had before the satyrs had joined them, but they still made fast progress through the woods, and, true to their word, Newel and Doren kept pace, dashing along behind.

  They had been charging through the dark forest for some time when Hugo stopped. Overhead, all but a few stars were blocked by the canopy of leaves.

  Seth heard and saw nothing.

  “Centaurs?” Doren asked.

  “Behind us,” Newel agreed. “Coming this way. Right this way. Sounds like they’re tracking us.”

  “Can we outrun them?” Seth asked.

  Newel chuckled. “I’m not sure anything at Fablehaven can outrun a centaur.”

  Hugo set Seth down and stood in front of him. A few seconds later, Seth could hear the approaching hoofbeats. As the drumming hooves got louder, he also heard leaves rustling and the occasional branch snapping. The satyrs were right. The centaurs were coming straight at them.

  Seth shone his flashlight as the centaurs cantered into view. They quickly came to a halt. Cloudwing led the group of four, an arrow set to the string of his enormous bow. The flashlight beam rose from his silver fur to his extravagantly muscled human torso, then swept across the other centaurs.

  “Greetings, Seth Sorenson,” Cloudwing boomed. “I need to have words with you.”

  “In the middle of the woods?” Seth asked from behind Hugo. “In the middle of the night?” He was not anxious to converse with centaurs. He felt certain they still suspected him of stealing their unicorn horn, and even though it had been returned, he knew centaurs were the type to hold serious grudges.

  “The treaty has fallen,” Cloudwing replied, his voice clear and strong. “The preserve is in disarray. We need to know what you humans propose to do.”

  “We’re working on it,” Seth assured him.

  “We have had tidings that you claimed the manor house on behalf of the demon Graulas,” Cloudwing accused sternly.

  “Word spreads like wildfire around here,” Newel said to Doren.

  “Even the cavalry knows,” Doren replied.

  “I’m doing what I can to keep dark forces away from the houses while the defenses are down,” Seth admitted. “Maybe you guys could help the rumor spread.”

  “So the tale is false?” Cloudwing pressed.

  “Yes,” Seth said. “But don’t go telling everybody.”

  “A false rumor will not dissuade wrongdoers for long,” Cloudwing said. “I understand your grandparents have abandoned the preserve.”

  “Not on purpose,” Seth said. “But yes, they’re gone right now.”

  “Let me suggest you place the houses under centaur protection,” Cloudwing advised. “It appears to be our fate to rise up and serve as the true guardians of Fablehaven.”

  “That might not be a bad idea,” Seth said. “Can you spare a few guards until my grandparents get back?”

  Cloudwing shook his head. “You misunderstand. We only protect our own property.”

  “You want the houses!” Seth cried. “What would centaurs do with human houses?”

  “We could find uses for them,” Cloudwing said. “For instance, we would keep them free of humans.”

  The other centaurs chuckled.

  “Then no, we don’t want your protection,” Seth said.

  “Choose your words carefully,” Cloudwing advised. “If you deny our protection, you may face our aggression.”

  “Now you’re threatening me?” Seth asked.

  “The artificial order of Fablehaven has been overturned,” Cloudwing declared. “It is the natural order for the strongest to take what they want. Be grateful that we extend the hand of mercy by offering our protection.”

  “Be grateful they let you grant your permission in order to firm up their claim,” Newel muttered.

  “This is none of your concern, goatman,” Cloudwing warned.

  Newel reddened, fists clenched, but held his tongue.

  “You will have to claim the houses yourself,” Seth said. “I surrender nothing. My grandparents will be back, and Fablehaven will be repaired.”

  Cloudwing exchanged amused glances with his fellow centaurs. “You believe the treaty will be reconstituted?”

  “Probably,” Seth said, hoping he correctly understood the meaning of reconstituted.

  “Fablehaven as you knew it is finished,” Cloudwing asserted boldly. “Be glad the centaurs are here to keep the sanctuary from degenerating into gated chaos.”

  “Don’t you mean be glad the centaurs are here to bully and enslave the weaker creatures?” Doren asked.

  Cloudwing drew his arrow to his cheek and aimed it at Doren. Hugo stepped between them. Cloudwing relaxed. “Another word from either goatman and we duel,” Cloudwing vowed. “Did you wastrels not hear that your people have already signed over their lands to us?”

  Newel raised his hand like a student and pointed at his lips.

  “You may speak,” Cloudwing said.

  “We weren’t part of that arrangement,” Newel said.

  “Then I suggest you clear out,” Cloudwing said. “Vacate the premises. We have already claimed the great cow Viola after finding her roaming the woods unattended. By sunrise, most of the former Fablehaven preserve will be part of Grunhold.”

  “We plan to clear out,” Seth said. “There is a battle being fought elsewhere that we must join.”

 

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