As soon as his fingers touched the silvery metal, the crown began to shrink. Within a moment, it fit neatly in his grasp, sized for his head.
Turning, Knox ran back toward the door the satyrs had used. Panting hard, he wondered if he should try it on. Might it transform him into a giant? Might it increase his strength?
He decided to wait. If it became an emergency, he could give the crown a try.
Gasping for breath, a stitch in his side, Knox reached the door the satyrs had escaped through with his sister. The unremarkable passage beyond led to an intersection. At least the corridor looked too small for giants or dragons. He was supposed to go right? Then left? Then through the first door?
Hoping he remembered correctly, Knox hurried through the turns and found the door. Before opening it, he considered what Rustafet might do if he saw Knox holding the crown, and hid it under his shirt.
Beyond the door, in a huge, bare room, Knox saw Newel waiting in the doorway to a wicker house. Rustafet paced nearby, a lofty presence.
“Get over here,” Newel called. “We were about to leave you!”
Knox mustered one last sprint and entered the wicker house. Newel shut the door, then sat down by Tess and Doren.
“We’re ready!” Doren called.
Rustafet swung the house onto his back and ran through a door. He dashed down an unpolished hall, rounded a corner, and went through another door. Knox held on tight as the movements jounced and jostled him.
“Rustafet?” a stern voice challenged. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have to take these passengers to Humburgh,” Rustafet said.
“Nice try,” a second voice scoffed. “The queen gave orders that no giant is to use this passageway under any circumstances.”
“The queen is dead,” Rustafet said.
“This is our darkest day,” the first voice said.
“Are you certain?” the second voice asked.
“We come from the throne room,” Rustafet said. “My passengers witnessed her fall.”
“Then her order counts double,” the first voice insisted, “and can never be redacted.”
“I don’t have to go,” Rustafet said, unshouldering the wicker house. “But you must let the passengers through. These are some of the visitors from Dragonwatch. Wee folk.”
Knox could now see that Rustafet was talking with two enormous, heavily armored guards.
“The way to Humburgh is closed,” the second guard said.
“But these passengers were approved by the queen’s servants,” Rustafet said. “Raza arranged the transport. That order must have come from her majesty.”
“Raza arranged this?” the first guard asked.
“Do you think dragons took initiative to rescue a couple of human kids and a pair of satyrs?” Rustafet asked. “Weren’t you just preaching that the orders of the queen must be honored?”
“Fine,” the first guard said. “Send them through.”
Newel led the little group out of the wicker house and past the monumental guards. Knox stayed by Tess and kept both hands on the crown under his shirt.
“You know the way,” Rustafet called after them. “Straight as an arrow until you arrive. You can’t get lost. But the distance may feel a tad long for little ones on foot.”
“Thank you,” Tess called over her shoulder.
“Take care,” Rustafet said. His attention turned to the guards. “Where can I find armaments?”
“We might make it out of here,” Newel whispered.
“Don’t get cocky or a dragon will catch us from behind,” Doren replied.
“Feeling sick, Knox?” Newel asked.
Knox realized that with both hands over his stomach, holding the crown beneath his shirt, it must look like he was clutching his belly. “Something like that,” Knox said. He didn’t want to talk about the crown yet. “Rough morning.”
“You know what I think?” Tess volunteered.
“Tell us,” Doren said.
Tess drew a shuddering breath. “I wish we were back at Fablehaven.”
“Amen!” the satyrs said in unison.
The repository where the dragons stored their treasure was not far beyond the web-strewn den of Velrog. The concoction Tanu whipped up had washed away the web residue, though Kendra’s clothes were damp, and she smelled vaguely of lemons, coconut, and baking soda.
Her heart remained heavy about Vanessa losing her sight and Cyllia falling prey to Velrog. But Kendra also felt relieved that Seth had appeared in time to bail them out, bringing with him one of the legendary Dragon Slayers. If they could claim the Harp of Ages soon, at least the sacrifices made to get this far might lead to positive outcomes.
It was odd to see Seth with wings. Though he showed more acceptance of her than he had previously, there was little recognition in his gaze, and the wings made him seem even less like the brother she knew. Was that how her family would view her if she ever became an Eternal? Would she become increasingly foreign to those she loved most?
The treasure room was organized like a museum, with items artfully displayed on raised platforms, tidy racks, tables, and pedestals. The lavish style in Jinzen’s lair seemed echoed here, so she assumed he had influenced the layout and design.
“Lots of choices,” Warren said, indicating a corner of the room crowded with harps great and small. Kendra hoped the Harp of Ages wasn’t one of the massive ones.
“No need to worry,” Merek said, striding confidently to a little golden harp with twelve strings. “This is the one we want.”
“Are you sure?” Tanu asked.
“I remember it,” Merek said.
“You’ve seen the Harp of Ages before?” Kendra asked.
“I remember when it was created,” Merek said. “Archadius led the team that produced it.”
“Is it hard to play?” Kendra asked.
Merek smiled. “It wasn’t designed for recitals. You just strum it. There is no effect on humans.”
“Should we go?” Seth asked.
“Give me a moment,” Merek said. “This wouldn’t be the first time I rescued some of my old gear from a dragon’s hoard.”
Kendra used the opportunity to approach Seth. “That’s a scary weapon.”
He held it up. “It’s called the Unforgiving Blade. No wound from it ever heals.”
“Shouldn’t you keep it in a sheath?” Kendra asked.
“Merek doesn’t think any sheath can contain it,” Seth said.
“Sounds
