The great door behind the dwarf swung open. “It suits me now,” a mighty voice boomed, not particularly deep, but very powerful.
Out strode an impossibly large man, several times bigger than the fog giants at Fablehaven. Seth was not half as tall as his shins. His proportions were not deformed like an ogre’s—he looked like a regular man in everything but scale. His head was bald with a few liver spots and a close-cropped fringe of graying hair. His astute face was lined in places but not overly wrinkled, with a wide mouth, a longish nose, and salt-and-pepper eyebrows. Seth would have guessed he was sixty. He wore a white toga and was slightly overweight, with a bit of loose flesh below his chin and some softness around the middle. A slim silver collar encircled his neck.
Two more griffins swooped down to the patio. One dumped Mendigo to slide and roll across the hard surface. The limberjack’s gashed torso came apart, cleanly split into two halves. The second griffin dropped a wooden arm.
“It has been a long while since I have gazed on humans,” the giant commented in a voice more thoughtful than gruff. “You were foolish to stray into the shadow of my mountain. I do not take intruders lightly, no matter how tiny or naïve they may be. Come inside, so I can size you up.”
Thronis withdrew from the doorway.
“You heard his Magnificence,” the dwarf barked. “I’ll see to your weapons. Get your sorry carcasses inside.”
Mendigo had dragged his top half over to his arm and was attaching the limb with its golden hooks. Seth crouched beside the puppet. “Wait for us here,” he whispered. “If we die, try to find Kendra and help her.”
“On your feet, boy,” the dwarf snarled.
Trask led the way. Three steps led up to the front door, each one taller than Seth could reach. Off to one side, ladders granted easier access for smaller people. They climbed the three ladders, crossed to the door, and climbed across the threshold.
They paused in the doorway to marvel at the enormity of the sparsely furnished room beyond. A tremendous bonfire blazed on a stone hearth, flames fluttering and leaping, the wood snapping and shooting out sparks. A gargantuan suit of plate armor the size of Thronis stood in one corner. On the wall beside the armor hung a shield, a spear, a spiked mace, and a sheathed sword, all on a scale to be wielded by the giant. Thronis himself sat in a monstrous chair beside a table larger than a tennis court. Leaning forward, hands clasped, he regarded them pensively.
“Come closer,” he urged, beckoning. “A diverse group of heroes, as might well be expected, though a couple of you look younger than I would have anticipated. Closer, draw closer, on the double! That’s better. Who would be your leader?”
“I am,” Trask proclaimed loudly.
“You needn’t shout,” the giant said. “I know I seem far away, but I have excellent hearing. I am Thronis. Tell me your names.”
Trask recited their names.
“Well met. Tell me, Trask, what brings you to Wyrmroost?”
“Our business is private.”
The giant raised an eyebrow. “
Was
private. Now I have captured you, and you had best respond to my inquiries.”
“We mean no harm to any at Wyrmroost, least of all yourself,” Trask said. “We are here to recover a nonmagical artifact that could help ensure the prolonged imprisonment of many foul beings.”
Thronis stroked his jaw. “Foul beings? Giants, perhaps?”
“Not giants,” Trask said. “Demons.”
“Few of us get along with demons,” the giant acknowledged. “A prudent answer, but insufficient. Would you care to elaborate?”
“I can say no more.”
The giant shook his head in disappointment. “Very well. Six of you will make for a meager pie, but I suppose an undersized delicacy is better than no treat at all.”
“We don’t want to be pie filling,” Seth protested.
Thronis pursed his lips. “What, then? A soufflé? Hmmm. You may be onto something.”
“As food, we’re gone in a moment,” Seth said. “As entertainment, the fun could go on and on.”
“Sensible reasoning,” the giant admitted. “Seth, how old are you?”
“Thirteen.”
“The youngest in the company, I take it.”
“Right.”
The giant crinkled his brow. “You have a peculiar aspect. Were you not so young, I might suspect you for a shadow charmer.”
“Trust your instincts. I’m a shadow charmer.”
“Which might explain why you can speak Jiganti.”
“What’s he saying?” Trask asked.
“I was just observing that Seth can speak the tongue of the giants. I’ll try to keep the conversation in English, Seth, for the sake of your friends, but afterwards we should commune in my native tongue. I do miss Jiganti. Where were we? Pies? Soufflé? No, entertainment. Speaking Jiganti with you would be entertaining, and I would be interested to hear how a child became a shadow charmer. Perhaps I could settle for a five-person pie with a side of stimulating conversation.”
“No,” Seth said. “Tanu is a potion master. Mara can tame wild animals. A bunch of us are dragon tamers. Gavin is a real pro. We could be at least as useful as that dwarf.”
“More useful than Zogo? Perhaps, but it wouldn’t have the same ring. The giant’s dwarf. I have enjoyed the sound of that since day one. Answer me, Seth, whom would you consider the most attractive of your companions?”
Seth glanced over at Mara. With one woman among them, it was an easy contest. “Mara.”
“I would have to agree,” Thronis said amiably. “Too bad she isn’t about ten times taller. Or maybe good thing she isn’t, considering how she must be feeling toward me at present.” The giant rose, stepped forward, crouched, and picked up Mara. He sat back down with her on his thigh. She stared up at him defiantly. “You look Hopi.”
She said nothing.
Thronis regarded her silently. “Not one for conversation, I gather. Am I not wild beast enough for you to tame? No matter. I was not counting on words from you.” He pinched her head between his thumb and forefinger. “Seth, you have spirit, a trait I admire. Maybe your vigor can help rescue some of your friends. I want you to explain in detail why you are here at Wyrmroost. Should you fail to do so, your loveliest companion will perish tragically. Then another. And another. All of them, in quick succession. But not you. You I will keep for a time. Perhaps you can help me prepare the crust.”
Seth’s mind raced. Was it worth keeping their mission a secret if it meant getting everyone killed? The Society already knew about the key. Navarog was at the gates. A quick decision was required. If information might spare them, why not spill it?
“Okay,” Seth said. “I’ll tell you. But put the lady down.” He avoided eye contact with the others, not wanting to see disapproval.
“A civil decision, young man,” Thronis said, bending down to place Mara on her feet. “Sorry, my dear, nothing personal. I am cursed with an inquisitive nature. Come here, Seth, I want you on the table.”
Seth trotted over to the chair. Thronis scooped him into a huge hand and set him gently on the tabletop. When he glanced down, the others appeared far away, as if he were standing atop a bluff.
“Tell me your business at Wyrmroost,” Thronis prompted.
“We’re after a key.”
“A key to what, exactly?”
“The key to a vault on an enchanted preserve far from here.”
“What lies within the vault?”
“An artifact.”
“What artifact?”
Seth hesitated. “We’re not sure. We think it might be a thingy called a Translocator. The artifact is one of the keys to Zzyzx.”
“Oh-ho,” the giant exhaled. “And how will unearthing the keys to Zzyzx protect us from demonkind?”
“Others are after the keys to Zzyzx,” Seth explained. “Bad people who want to open the prison. We’re moving the keys to keep them hidden.”
Thronis challenged Seth with a suspicious glare. “And how do I know you are not in fact the wrongdoers? You are, after all, a shadow charmer.”
“Good point. I guess that is hard to prove. But I’m not lying. It’s why we’re here.”
Thronis cracked his knuckles. “So you’re hunting for a key in order to access a different key. Did you expect to find this key on my mountain?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then why make the imprudent mistake of coming near?”
“We were trying to find our way to where the key is hidden.”
“Where might that be?”
“We’re . . . um . . . not totally sure.”
The giant eyed him. “You’re becoming evasive. Do not try my patience. Do you need me to demonstrate that I am serious about squashing your friends? Tell me what you know about where the key you seek is hidden.”
Seth sighed. He glanced down at his friends. Their expressions were unreadable. At least the giant was not a dragon. “The key is inside the Dragon Temple. We’re not sure where that is. Honestly.”
The giant’s eyes flashed. “You intend to brave the guardians of the Dragon Temple?” Thronis turned to address the others. “Is this spoken in jest, Sir Leader?”
“The boy speaks the truth,” Trask said.
Thronis turned back to Seth. “Then you are more courageous than I am. Or more reckless. Or simply uninformed. Have you any idea the chore that lies before you?”
“We’re sort of winging it,” Seth said.
Now the giant laughed heartily. Seth watched in silence. As the flood of mirth abated, Thronis brushed a tear from his eye. “Any dragon at Wyrmroost would immediately slay you for planning to enter the Dragon Temple, let alone actually treading there. Not to mention the three implacable guardians.”
“Who are the guardians?”
The giant shrugged. “I understand that the first is a hydra. Hespera is her name. I have no idea regarding the other two—not that their services would be needed. What are the odds of getting past a hydra?”
“We’ll figure out something,” Seth said stoutly.
The giant laughed again. “I am amused. Truly diverted. I would even use the word
delighted.
This is far better than any pie. It may even exceed a soufflé. I find the absurdity exquisite!”
“I get underestimated a lot,” Seth said.
Thronis composed himself. “I meant no insult. Apparently your need is great, or you would not undertake such a desperate task. You are thirteen, and a shadow charmer, which means there is more to you than meets the eye. No doubt your comrades have hidden talents of their own. But you were taken by griffins! If dragons were hawks, griffins would be sparrows. And the hydra would be a hawk with twenty heads!”
“We have to try,” Seth said simply.
“You get to try only if I opt not to include you in a recipe,” the giant affirmed. “It would be a shame to waste such uncommon ingredients. But perhaps we can reach an accord.” He fingered the silver collar. “You see this ring around my neck?”
“Yes.”
“You have not by chance spoken with Agad the wizard?”
“I have.”
“You have?” Dougan exclaimed.
“Long story,” Seth shot back.
The giant went on, ignoring the interruption. “Are you aware that if I tell a lie this collar will constrict and crush my windpipe?”
“Agad didn’t tell me personally, but I heard the rumor.”
“Good to know that word of my curse reaches the ears of every newcomer,” Thronis said dryly. “Agad is very smug about the accomplishment. As well he should be. I am something of a spell weaver myself, and not easily duped. I wasted years trying to get the collar off, to break the spell, until I finally decided it might be simpler to always be truthful. What I am saying is that if we make an arrangement, I will hold to my end. I must, or I will die.”
Seth placed his hands on his hips. “How do we know the spell is real? Or that you haven’t found a way around it?”
“I suppose that is hard to prove. Nevertheless it is true. And, to be candid, you are in no position to doubt me.”
“What sort of agreement?”
Thronis favored Seth with a sly grin. “Indulge me for a moment while I paint the picture. A giant of my size is a fearsome opponent, even knowing no magic. Granted, at a glance I am intimidating. But a glance would not reveal the millennia I have lived, the spells I have mastered, my deceptive agility, my skill with arms, or the true strength in me, a raw power that goes well beyond the predictable capacity of my large frame.
“Most are aware that the hide of a giant is shockingly resilient. Pause to consider my additional mail.” He indicated the battle gear in the corner. “Reflect upon the quantity of steel required for such magnificent armature, and the additional security it provides. Have you ever heard of a giant with a suit of plate? Array me in full armor, grant me my weapons, and I could prevail against any dragon of this sanctuary in open battle, save perhaps Celebrant.
“Yet despite these advantages, I have never braved the Dragon Temple.” Thronis gazed pointedly at Seth. “This is not because the location of the temple is a mystery. I have two orbs in a neighboring chamber, one white, the other dark. The dark helps me adjust the climate. The white is for gazing. From my manse on Stormcrag, I can behold most of Wyrmroost, and much of the world beyond the walls. Although I cannot penetrate the Dragon Temple, I know precisely where it lies.