Fablehaven: The Complete Series (172 page)

Trask and Dougan claimed the chairs nearest the elderly man. They all sat down. “You are Agad?” Trask asked.

“I am Agad, custodian of Wyrmroost.” The old man dipped his fingers in a wooden bowl of water and wiped them on a linen napkin. “You seek the key deposited here by Patton Burgess.”

They hesitated to respond. The bearded man regarded them coolly. “Correct,” Dougan finally said.

Agad took a sip from a heavy goblet. “Patton was a friend of this sanctuary until he and a colleague smuggled a dragon egg off the premises. The exploit proved fatal.”

“I heard he has a grave here,” Kendra blurted.

Agad gave her a prolonged stare. “Not common knowledge. But yes, his bones are interred here at Blackwell. Only bones remained.” The old man turned to Trask. “These are no environs for charming young girls. You will not find the key. My counsel is for you to depart immediately.”

“We mustn’t turn back,” Trask said. “We were hoping to leave the girl and her protector here at the keep while the rest of us pursue the key.”

“Alas,” Agad lamented, folding his hands, “your intention is in vain. For us to maintain peace with the dragons, visitors may only seek shelter within the walls of Blackwell Keep during the first and last night of their stay.”

Kendra and Warren exchanged a worried look.

“Surely we can arrange an exception for the child,” Dougan said.

“I am afraid the terms of our truce allow for no exceptions,” Agad sighed. “However, if you would indulge me, I would like to speak to the girl alone.”

“We intended to ask for some assistance—” Trask began.

Agad held up a hand. “I oversee the keep and watch the gate. I have little involvement with the diverse inhabitants of this sanctuary, and virtually no interest in the agendas of visitors. The girl has clearly been adopted by fairies, and I have long taken an academic interest in such rarities. Your best chance to garner any advice from me would be to allow us some words in private.”

Laying a comforting hand on Kendra’s shoulder, Warren arose. “How do we—”

“I am master of this keep and custodian of this refuge. As visitors, you live or die by my word. She will be safer with me than in your company. I pledge that I intend the young woman no harm.” Agad did not raise his voice, but his manner left no room for argument.

“I’ll talk with him,” Kendra said. “Go on, I’m not worried.”

Agad smiled as if her words had officially settled the matter. “Simrin will show you to your quarters. The girl’s gallant protector can wait outside this hall.”

Kendra whispered assurances to Trask and Warren, remaining in her seat while the others shuffled out. Simrin closed the large doors at the end of the chamber as she exited.

“Come nearer,” Agad offered. “Would you care for food?”

“I’m not hungry,” Kendra said, moving to the nearest seat.

“Do you mind if I continue my meal?”

“Not at all. Go ahead.”

Keeping his elbows tucked close to his chest, the old man resumed transporting slimy chunks of meat from the bread bowl to his mouth with his fingers. “I have long wondered when you would appear.”

“What do you mean?”

“Patton told me that one day a girl who was fairykind might show up searching for the key. Are you here of your own free will? These companions are not captors, I hope.”

“They’re friends,” Kendra assured him. “I’m here on purpose.”

“And you expect to retrieve the key?”

“We must. Our enemies know about it. They haven’t come for it yet, have they?”

Agad shook his head. “No. You seven are our first guests in a great while.”

“How did you know I was fairykind?”

“I would scarcely be half a wizard were I blind to such telltale brilliance as accompanies you, my dear Kendra.”

“You know my name.”

“Patton spoke of you in considerable detail.” Agad packed another pinch of dripping meat into his mouth, the red juice staining his whiskers.

“I thought wizards were extinct,” Kendra said.

“You are not far from the truth. Very few true wizards survive. Oh, you can find pretenders, magicians and witches and the like, but my kind have become an extremely rare breed. You see, all true wizards were once dragons.”

“You’re a dragon?”

“No longer. Many mature dragons can assume human form. Most are content to transform back and forth on occasion. Ages ago, a very wise dragon named Archadius discovered that by permanently assuming human form, he significantly increased his magical abilities. Others of us, those most interested in magic, followed suit.”

“I guess that makes you a good caretaker for a dragon sanctuary.”

Agad dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “Yes and no. I certainly have a profound understanding of dragons. Enough to realize that dragons have little fondness for those of us who embraced permanent humanity. To some extent they view us as weak, to some extent they are jealous, and to some extent they blame us for the general decline of dragons.”

“Why blame wizards?”

“With good reason. Wizards were among the greatest dragon slayers. Like humans, dragons have alliances and enmities. Those battles raged on after various dragons took human form, and in the process, humanity discovered how to slay dragons. Furthermore, wizards played an instrumental role in confining dragons to sanctuaries.” He wetted his fingers in the bowl of water, then dried his hands on the napkin.

“Can other dragons tell you used to be a dragon?”

“Only by witnessing the extent of the spells I can work. Or if anciently they had seen me transform. Under normal circumstances, the metamorphosis is so complete that even a fellow dragon cannot identify a dragon in human form. A human avatar serves as a virtually perfect disguise.”

“Do you like being human?”

The wizard gave her a lopsided smile. “You ask difficult questions. A dragon prefers being a dragon when he is a dragon. We can only tolerate being human while clothed in human form. Changing back and forth is disorienting. The form we assume affects our minds. Here, now, I cannot fully recall the experience of being a dragon. I enjoy the mastery of magic I have achieved. I mostly enjoy how a human thinks and perceives the world. Do regrets linger? Indeed. Yet overall, with no way of rewriting history, I am content with my decision.”

“You made the choice a long time ago?”

Agad exhaled sharply. “Thousands of years ago.”

“So you age slowly?”

“Almost as gradually as a dragon.” He sipped from his goblet. “But we digress. I meant to talk with you about Patton.”

“It sounded like you hate him.”

“I must present that façade. It is true that he was unpopular among the dragons here, even before he snatched an egg. But I know the truth. The egg he took belonged to a dragon named Nafia who had fallen into a pattern of eating her young. Dragons breed infrequently, and I wanted her most recent offspring to survive. Patton smuggled the egg to a safe location. To appease the dragons, I feigned outrage, invented a ruse that Patton had perished, and pretended to inter his remains in our churchyard.”

“Do you know where he hid the key?”

Agad shook his head. “He did not trust that secret even to me—although, if you dig, you will find peculiar markings on the portion of his headstone below the ground. I take it you can decipher the secret fairy language.”

“Yes. Can you help us retrieve the key?”

“Sadly, I can offer almost no assistance. The dragons have no love for me. Potent magical defenses reinforced by an ancient truce protect me while I remain at Blackwell Keep. Should I stray beyond these walls, the dragons would devour me and my assistants. Same if I broke our truce by letting you lodge here longer than is allowed.”

“How can you be caretaker if you never leave?”

“My assistants venture beyond these walls as my eyes and ears. Not an enviable job. And I can discern much by magical means.” The wizard settled back in his chair. “I was not lying to your companions when I told them they would fail.”

“We have to try,” Kendra said. “Our enemies are resourceful.”

“Even if you somehow manage to remove the key, can you guard it better than dragons?”

“Now that they know it’s here, our enemies will find a way to get it. We have to move it.”

“They have the Oculus. They’ll find it again.”

Kendra stared at him. “How do you know they have the Oculus?”

“I could feel when they spied here. I could not identify the watcher, but I felt the gazing. I have been studied through the Oculus before.”

“Could one of your assistants help us?” Kendra tried.

“I can’t risk any of my personnel assisting you. Dragons are unforgiving. Beyond this castle, you are trespassers, and I cannot let your mission upset our fragile truce. Besides, none of my aides are very trustworthy. I know some of them spy on me for certain dragons. I do not think my assistants would harm you against my orders within these walls, but I harbor doubts even about that. It takes a hard sort to survive in a place like this.”

Kendra crossed her arms on the table. “Okay. When should I check out the gravestone?”

“I’ll instruct Simrin to show you the churchyard. Later tonight, steal down there with a comrade or two. Try not to let my assistants see. Cover your tracks when you leave.” Pushing off the armrests of his chair, the old wizard stood. “Do not reveal my friendship with Patton to anyone, including your friends. Blame my candor on my interest in your status as fairykind. I will supply counsel to you and three companions of your choosing on the morrow. At this juncture, the best help I can offer will be advice.”

“We’ll appreciate anything you can do.”

The wizard patted her arm. “I wish I could say I thought it would be enough.”

Chapter 18

Blackwell Keep

Covering the plastic cup with his hand, Seth felt the dice tickling his palm. “Come on, sixes,” he murmured, uncovering the cup and dumping five dice into the lid of the Yahtzee box.

“Three fives,” Bubda announced.

“No sixes.” Seth studied his score sheet. “I already have my fives. I still need four of a kind. Fives will do.” He scooped up the dice and rolled a three and a four. Then he rolled a one and a six.

“No four of a kind,” Bubda said. “You claiming the six?”

“I’d miss my bonus for sure. And I already used my chance slot. I better take a zero for Yahtzee.”

Bubda scooped the dice into the cup and grinned as he rattled them briskly. The hermit troll had already recorded a Yahtzee this round, and had assured his upper section bonus. Boredom had driven Seth to comb through the junk in the storeroom. The Yahtzee box had an old-fashioned design, as if it came from the fifties or sixties. Some of the score cards had been used, but plenty remained blank, and there were two little golf pencils as well. Seth had started playing by himself, and the troll eventually came to watch over his shoulder. Bubda’s reluctant curiosity had mushroomed into a Yahtzee marathon.