“Only tainted centaurs could truly challenge us,” Cloudwing considered, eyes on Broadhoof.
“We could outdistance the satiric sentries at will,” Broadhoof said.
“How do we know this scheme warrants our leadership?” Cloudwing asked.
Kendra faltered, glancing at Seth.
“My grandpa is willing to risk his life, and the lives of his family, to carry out the plan,” Seth said. “We can’t guarantee it will work, but at least it gives us all a chance.”
“Without your help, we’ll never know,” Kendra exaggerated. “Please.”
“We need you,” Seth said. “If the plan works, you’ll have rescued Fablehaven from my grandfather’s incompetent management.” He glanced at Kendra for approval.
The centaurs leaned together, conferring inaudibly.
“Your lack of leadership is indeed a problem,” Broadhoof pronounced. “But Cloudwing and I do not perceive it as our problem. We must decline.”
“What?” Seth cried. “Are you serious? Then I’m glad half the preserve is here to watch who stood idly by when Fablehaven was endangered.”
Kendra glared at her brother.
“We care little for the fate of satyrs and humans, and less for their reactions to our indifference,” Cloudwing stated.
“Thanks anyhow,” Kendra said, grabbing Seth’s arm to pull him away. He shook free of her.
“Fine,” Seth spat. “But I’ll be going out there tomorrow. Good luck ignoring the fact that you don’t even have the courage of a human boy.”
The centaurs stiffened.
“Am I deceived, or did the whelp label us cowards?” Cloudwing asked in a dangerous tone. “Our verdict not to lead your diversion had nothing to do with fearfulness. We recognized the activity as futile.”
Broadhoof fixed Seth with a fierce stare. “Surely the human youth misspoke.”
Seth folded his arms and stared back silently.
“If he means to stand by his insult,” Broadhoof said forebodingly, “I will demand immediate satisfaction. No one, great or small, tramples my honor.”
“You mean a duel?” Seth asked incredulously. “You’re going to prove your courage by beating up a kid?”
“He raises a valid concern,” Cloudwing said, laying a hand on Broadhoof’s shoulder. “Consorting with hogs will only leave us soiled.”
“The two of you are dead to us,” Broadhoof declared. “Depart.”
Kendra tried to drag Seth away, but he was too strong.
“All muscle and no backbone,” Seth snarled. “Let’s go find some satyrs to lead us. Or maybe a dwarf. Leave the frightened ponies to pretend they have honor.”
Kendra wanted to strangle her brother.
“We overlooked your insult out of pity,” Broadhoof fumed. “Yet you persist?”
“I thought I was dead,” Seth said. “Keep it straight, you nag.”
Broadhoof balled his fists, huge muscles bunching in his forearms. Veins stood out in his beefy neck. “Very well. Tomorrow at sunrise, you and I will resolve the issue of my honor.”
“No we won’t,” Seth said. “I don’t fight with mules. The fleas are my biggest concern. That, and the actual problems that need solving. You’re welcome to murder me in my tent.”
“Broadhoof is within his rights to challenge you to a duel after a deliberate insult,” Cloudwing asserted. “I stand as a witness of the exchange.” He extended a hand, indicating the surrounding area. “Furthermore, this place is a refuge for creatures of light. As a human, you are a trespasser here. Like the naiads in the pond, Broadhoof could slay you at will with utter impunity.”
Kendra felt her stomach drop. Seth looked shaken.
“Which would prove nothing about your honor,” Seth said, his voice almost steady. “If you care about honor, lead the diversion tomorrow.”
The centaurs put their heads together and spoke quietly. After a moment they parted.
“Seth Sorenson,” Broadhoof intoned weightily. “Never in my long years have I been so openly affronted. Your words are unforgivable. And yet I am not ignorant to the reality that they were spoken in a misguided ploy to gain my assistance, in counterpoint to the awkward flattery you attempted at first. For the insolence of denying my challenge, I should strike you down where you stand. But in acknowledgment of the desperate valor behind your words, I will stay my hand for the moment, and forget this conversation ever occurred if you drop to your knees, beg my forgiveness, claim insanity, and declare yourself a craven coward.”
Seth hesitated. Kendra elbowed him. He shook his head. “No. I won’t do that. If I did, I really would be a coward. All I take back is saying my grandfather mismanaged the preserve. You’re right that we were pretending to flatter you.”
With a ring of metal, Broadhoof unsheathed an enormous sword. Kendra had not previously noticed the scabbard hanging at his side. The centaur held the blade aloft.
“This brings me no pleasure,” Broadhoof growled broodingly.
“I have a better idea,” Seth said. “If you lead the diversion tomorrow, and I come back alive, I’ll duel with you. Then you can satisfy your honor the right way.”
Kendra thought the centaur appeared relieved. He spoke briefly with Cloudwing.
“Very well,” Broadhoof said. “You have accomplished your aim, though not without a price. Tomorrow we will spearhead your diversion. The day afterward, at dawn, we settle the matter of your impudence.”
Kendra seized Seth’s hand. This time he allowed her to conduct him away. She waited to speak until they were far from the centaurs. “What’s the matter with you?” It required all of her control to resist screaming the words.
“I got them to help us,” Seth said.
“You knew they were arrogant, you knew they might not help, but you insisted on insulting them! Not only is getting yourself killed a bad idea, it hurts our chances of saving Fablehaven!”
“But I’m not dead,” he said, patting his torso as if shocked to find himself intact.
“You should be. And you probably will be.”
“Not for two days.”
“Don’t speak so soon. We haven’t told Grandma and Grandpa what happened yet.”
“Don’t tell them,” Seth pleaded, suddenly desperate. “Things are bad enough. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t tell.”
Kendra threw up her hands. “
Now
you beg.”
“If you tell, they won’t let me go to the manor, but they’ll need me. Also, they’ll worry needlessly. They’ll lose focus and make mistakes. Listen. You can tell them eventually. You can make me look as stupid as you want. Just wait until after we raid the manor.”
The reasoning behind his plea made some sense. “All right,” Kendra consented. “I’ll wait until tomorrow afternoon.”
His grin tempted her to change her mind.
Chapter 18
The Old Manor
Alone, Kendra leaned against the smooth gazebo railing watching dozens of creatures take up positions around the field. Dryads and hamadryads clustered around indentations where the hedge was penetrable. Doren led a band of satyrs to the main gap by the path. Groups of fairies patrolled the air in glittering formations. Broadhoof and Cloudwing took up positions in the center of the field near Hugo and the cart.
Not all of the creatures were participating. The majority of the fairies flitted about the trellises of the boardwalk, playing among the blossoms. The dwarfs had unanimously taken refuge in their tents, having complained to Grandpa that running was not their strong suit. The more animal-like creatures had gone into hiding. Many satyrs and nymphs observed the proceedings from other gazebos.
Even in the shade, the midday heat was uncomfortable. Kendra limply fanned herself with one hand. She could not see Seth, Grandma, Warren, or Dale. They had collapsed a tent, and lay hidden beneath it in the bed of the cart. Grandpa stood in the front of the cart, supervising the final preparations, hands on his hips.
Kendra had kept her word and refrained from telling anyone about Seth’s agreement with Broadhoof. Grandma and Grandpa had been overjoyed to hear that the centaurs would assist with the diversion. Kendra had done her best to appear equally pleased.
Grandpa raised a handkerchief in the air, waved it briefly, and then let it fall. As the silky square fluttered to the ground, Cloudwing reared, equine muscles churning beneath his silver fur. He clutched a huge bow in one hand, and across his broad back hung a quiver of arrows the size of javelins. Broadhoof unsheathed his tremendous sword with a flourish, the burnished blade catching the sunlight.
Together the centaurs raced across the grass toward the gap in the hedge, blurred hooves flinging up tufts of turf, galloping with such fluid speed that Kendra found herself breathless. Shoulder to shoulder they charged through the gap, stampeding over the dark satyrs who sought to impede their passage.
With a victorious shout, twenty satyrs detached themselves from the hedge at either side of the gap and followed the centaurs through, spreading out in all directions. A few hamadryads ran with them. While the satyrs were quick and nimble, the nymphs put them to shame, seeming more to fly than to run, effortlessly outdistancing any pursuers.
Kendra smiled to herself. No smitten satyr would ever chase down a hamadryad who did not wish to be caught!
Around the field, dryads and satyrs snuck through hidden openings in the hedge, often on hands and knees. Fairies flew over the hedge wall, angling skyward as their shadowy sisters gave chase. The satyrs watching from the boardwalk whistled, stamped, and shouted huzzahs. Many naiads surfaced, heads dripping, eyes wide as they observed the tumult.
Amid the commotion, Hugo charged forward, towing the cart. Grandpa had hidden himself under the tent with the others. Kendra held her breath as the hulking golem stormed through the gap in the hedge unmolested and the cart rumbled out of sight.
After the cart passed through the main gap, a few tall dryads followed, splitting off in different directions, their flowing robes and long hair trailing behind. Satyrs and hamadryads began returning under the hedge and through the gap. Some laughed; others appeared flustered.
Kendra glanced back at the naiads, their weedy hair glossed with slime, their wet faces surprisingly fragile and young for beings whose favorite pastime was drowning humans. Kendra locked eyes with one of them and waved. In response, they all hastily plunged under the water.
Over the next several minutes, more fairies, satyrs, and dryads returned. As they reentered the field, they were welcomed by embraces from friends. Most then turned to anxiously await the arrival of other loved ones.
More minutes passed, and arrivals grew sparse. Running hard, flanks lathered, the centaurs galloped though the gap, forcing a cluster of dark fairies to abandon their pursuit. Only two arrows remained in Cloudwing’s quiver.
Less than a minute later, dodging and fighting several dark satyrs, Doren reappeared in the gap, leading a desperate knot of satyrs. Shoving opponents aside, a half dozen satyrs stumbled through the gap into the arms of friends.
Kendra saw a familiar figure standing at the threshold of the field. Verl, snowy fur matted with dirt, chest and shoulders marred by bites and scratches, strained to take a step forward. He had won through to the field, but his eyes widened with panic as an unseen barrier prevented his entry. Kendra saw his childish face begin to contort into a more goatlike countenance, watched his white fur begin to darken. Bleating black satyrs hauled him down from behind, piling on him. Moments later, when Verl arose, he had the head of a goat and fur as black as sable.
The satyrs and hamadryads withdrew from the gap. Kendra descended the gazebo steps and ran to Doren.
“Did they get away all right?” the satyr panted.
“Yes,” Kendra said. “How awful about Verl.”
“Nasty business,” Doren agreed. “At least most of us made it back. The worst trouble came after a flock of dark fairies cornered one of the most powerful dryads. They changed her swiftly, and she went on to nab a bunch of us. I see the centaurs made it back.” He nodded toward where Broadhoof and Cloudwing stood ringed by animated satyrs, grimly enduring the adulation.