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 centre 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 colours, 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.
"Thanks for the procession," Garreth said to Kendra and Seth, his manner more casual. "Sorry for all the formalities. So many people were interested in seeing you, I'm not sure how else we could have managed it."
"No problem," Seth said, still beaming.
Garreth paused, gazing at Kendra. "I'm sorry—you must get this all the time, but you shine so brightly."
Kendra felt warmth rushing to her face. "Thank you?"
He gave a reassuring smile. "It's definitely a compliment. Should we go see the old man?"
Kendra found herself not responding and was unsure how to fix the problem. That smile needed to be registered as a lethal weapon.
"Lead the way," Seth said.
"Your wooden friend is unusual," Garreth commented as they entered a high, broad hall with pale blue walls and white accents embellished by flourishes of crafted silver.
"Mendigo," Kendra said. "Kind of our bodyguard."
"Can he talk?"
"No," Kendra said. "But he's perfectly obedient."
"I want one," Garreth said with lighthearted jealousy.
"We got ours from a witch," Seth said. "Mendigo used to be our enemy."
"I want to hear the story," Garreth said. "I've never had a real enemy. I have some rivals among the Fair Folk, but no foes from outside our society. I was born under our neutrality. Gets pretty boring if you ask me, but I'm not in charge."
Kendra wondered how it would feel to not have an enemy. She had developed so many over the last couple of years.
They passed into a cavernous room where a distinguished-looking man sat on a jeweled throne atop a dais. Though the hair at his temples had hints of white, he remained vigorous and dashing. His chiseled features were enough like Garreth's that Kendra could see they were related, and he possessed an even darker complexion than his son.
But his smile was not nearly as inviting.
"Welcome, Kendra Sorenson," the man on the throne said. "I was not informed that you are fairykind."
Seth leaned nearer to Kendra. "Did you get any of that?"
"Yeah," she whispered back. "You didn't?"
"I only caught your name," Seth said.
Kendra realized the man must be speaking a fairy language. Her fairykind status let her understand fairy languages as effortlessly as English.
"May I present Lord Dalgorel, protector of Terrabelle," Garreth inserted, his tone formal once again.
"Yes, I am fairykind," Kendra finally answered. "And my brother Seth is a shadow charmer."
"So I noticed," Lord Dalgorel said. "An unlikely pairing. Welcome, Seth."
"You're a shadow charmer?" Garreth asked Seth with interest. "I don't have my father's eye."
"An adult is speaking," Dalgorel said in a hard tone.
"Apologies," Garreth said with a small bow.
"I understand him now," Seth whispered quickly.
Kendra realized Dalgorel must have switched to English. She disliked his severity toward his son.
"Please excuse the absence of Lady Dalgorel," the man said. "She is feeling unwell, and this audience comes at short notice. I am given to understand you have already been appointed co-caretakers with Celebrant."
Kendra glanced around the room. Many men and women were assembled, all breathtakingly attractive, dressed like royalty. She felt intimidated to admit they had strayed from tradition.
"Celebrant demanded—" Henrick began.
"Hold your reply," Dalgorel said, raising a hand. "I know what Marat claims. I want to hear from our new friends."
Seth showed the medallion. "Yes. We're already the caretakers."
The room was very quiet.
Dalgorel polished one of his rings with a fingertip. "Were you aware that the Fair Folk normally approve the prospective caretaker before the appointment is made?"
Kendra knew part of their purpose here was to apologize for breaking protocol. Dalgorel might be having this conversation in front of others to make sure the apology was public. She and Seth wanted his support, and hopefully some information. Despite his arrogant attitude, she needed to get this right.
"We had never heard of the Fair Folk before coming here two days ago," Kendra explained. "We only learned how your approval normally works while talking to Celebrant. He told us we had to accept the job and be appointed right then or never."
"Marat tried to get him to wait so we could talk to you first," Seth added.
"You feared the displeasure of Celebrant more than the prospect of offending the Fair Folk," Dalgorel summarized.
"We still got plenty of his displeasure," Kendra said. "He tore down the Perch where the caretakers talk to dragons."
"So I understand," Dalgorel said.
"The Dragon King made it clear we're not friends," Kendra said. "We skipped your approval because otherwise Celebrant would have stopped us from becoming the caretakers. It seemed necessary. We apologize."
"Celebrant does not make idle threats," Dalgorel said. "He would have blocked your instatement had you ignored him. The question remains whether a pair of mortal children have any business becoming the caretakers of Wyrmroost, especially during this uncertain period. Did it occur to you that Celebrant might not have wanted you to talk to me because I would have spoken against this terrible idea?"
"Wait a minute," Seth said. "I'm not sure it was terrible."
"Did Celebrant's eagerness send no warning signals to Marat?" Dalgorel asked.
"Marat had other reasons for wanting us to become the caretakers," Kendra said.
"Those reasons are best examined in private," Dalgorel said. "I pity you poor children. I will not add to your woes with displeasure for proceeding without my blessing. You came here promptly to apologize. Apology accepted. But your problems remain. In the darkest hour this sanctuary has seen, Wyrmroost has never been in less capable hands."
"It won't be an easy job," Kendra said, making an effort to stay humble. She noticed Seth glaring at her and hoped he would keep quiet. "We'd appreciate any advice or suggestions."
"I am not heartless," Dalgorel said. "You are young and most likely doomed to failure. Go with Garreth to the green parlor and I will come condole with you about your misfortunes in due time."
"Thank you," Kendra said.
Seth gave no answer but raised his eyebrows at Kendra.
Garreth led the way out of the room.