“Which is why she didn’t give it to you,” Kendra said.
“Bracken’s mother is no fool,” Ronodin said. “But she is having trouble purifying her realm.”
“What do you mean?” Kendra asked.
Ronodin stayed silent, nonchalantly checking his fingernails.
“Where is Seth?” Kendra asked.
“I wondered when that topic would arise,” Ronodin said. “You know, as an apprentice, Seth left much to be desired.”
“You know so much,” Kendra said. “Where is he?”
“I’m suddenly drawing a blank,” Ronodin said. “I remember he was at the volcano.”
“Did he cause Baga Loa to erupt?” Kendra asked.
“He had the chance,” Ronodin said. “But your little brother chickened out. I sent another agent after the Everbloom, who became an unfortunate casualty.”
“What if I tell Dectus all I know about you?”
“I would become much less cooperative,” Ronodin said. “Do you think we would be having this conversation had you not played along?”
“I want answers,” Kendra said.
“Take a seat,” Ronodin said. “Have some fruit from that bowl. I don’t know where they source the pears, but you will find them surprisingly refreshing.”
“I would rather stand,” Kendra said. “If you want me to keep quiet, start with where I can find Seth.”
“Somewhere on this preserve?” Ronodin guessed. “He meant to come here. How should I know? Seth has served his purposes.”
“As your slave,” Kendra accused.
“As my willing apprentice,” Ronodin said. “I did want Seth to free the undead from the Blackwell. He performed perfectly. Everything else was a bonus.”
Fighting back tears, Kendra clenched her fists. Ronodin had overthrown Wyrmroost. He had imprisoned Bracken. He had abducted Seth. And here he sat in comfortable luxury. Suddenly the bowl of fruit held new appeal. She crossed to the bowl, picked up an apple, and hurled it at him.
Shrinking and raising his hands, Ronodin deflected the fruit. Kendra pelted him in the side with a pear, narrowly missed his head with an orange, and then he caught the next apple, tossing it aside. Ronodin leaped over the back of the sofa, crouching out of sight. The moment his head popped up, Kendra chucked a kiwi at him.
“Seriously, Kendra?” Ronodin said. “This is very unlike you.”
She dumped out the fruit, then charged the sofa, wielding the golden bowl. Ronodin scrambled away as she drew near, then picked up a pillow off a chair and used it to block a swing of the bowl. Kendra lunged at him, but he dodged aside. Her momentum carried her down into the corner of a marble tabletop, opening a long gash on her forearm.
“What have you done?” Ronodin accused.
Kendra staggered to her feet, blood oozing between the fingers clutching her injury. “You’re a monster,” Kendra accused, panting. “You do evil wherever you go. You’re going to destroy Titan Valley.”
“I’ll do as I see fit,” Ronodin said.
“So will I,” Kendra said. “Help!” she yelled. “I’m being attacked!”
The door flew open and a brawny man wearing a silver choker entered.
“Out!” Ronodin demanded. “Or I will make your life an endless misery.”
The brawny man glanced at the overturned bowl, the scattered fruit, and Kendra’s bleeding arm, and his gaze landed on Ronodin.
“Sorry, Giant Killer,” the servant said, approaching. “I am under strict orders to protect the caretaker.”
“She attacked me,” Ronodin accused.
The brawny servant looked from Ronodin, polished and calm, to Kendra, disheveled, clutching her injured arm with tears in her eyes.
“You damage everything you touch,” Kendra spat, still fuming.
“I’ve seen enough,” the servant said. “Her wound requires attention.”
“Be wise in what you share,” Ronodin said to Kendra.
“Be wise in who you cross,” Kendra replied as she exited.
Have a seat,” Virgil said. “Are you hungry?”
“Actually, yes,” Seth said, sitting down on a bench beside a table cluttered with dishes, mugs, utensils, papers, maps, spent candles, and several books. The satyr slid some hefty tomes aside to clear a space in front of Seth.
“You like fish?” Virgil asked.
“I like anything,” Seth said. “Except turnips.”
“Have you been going hungry?” Virgil asked.
“Yes,” Seth said.
“Then you get the works,” Virgil said. “Hungry young adventurers deserve some breaks.”
The room connected to the little kitchen was overcrowded. Seth counted five ottomans, four clocks, three globes, two hat racks, and an abundance of pillows on the worn furniture. Rows of paintings leaned against the base of a wall. An easel in one corner supported a half-finished landscape.
“Your hermit troll isn’t going upstairs, is he?” Virgil asked.
Seth hadn’t noticed, but Virgil was right. “Sorry. Hermo, where are you going?”
“Me look around,” Hermo replied.
“What are you hoping to find?” Virgil called.
“Me no steal,” Hermo said. “Me find stuff.”
“Hermo, Virgil is our host,” Seth said.
“Let him go,” Virgil said.
“Reggie, would you watch Hermo?” Seth asked. “Make sure he doesn’t take anything?”
The dirt figure saluted and followed the hermit troll up the stairs.
Virgil brought a platter to the table laden with bread, butter, jam, and cheese. He also produced a plate with three cooked, deboned fish fillets.
“Who names a hermit troll ‘Hermo’?” Virgil whispered. “His parents weren’t very creative.”
Seth chuckled as he buttered a piece of bread. “Thanks for this food. I hope Hermo doesn’t get into mischief.”
“Between you and me,” Virgil said, “I don’t have anything of great material value in this house. And I have trouble discarding items, so if he wants something, he will most likely do me a favor by claiming it.”
Seth took a bite of bread and felt his appetite roar to life. He made an effort to pace himself and squirreled away a few morsels for Calvin.
“You want to learn about the Games,” Virgil said. “Tell me what you already know.”
“Humbuggle runs them,” Seth replied. “They’re really hard to beat. People get killed all the time.” Seth’s voice trailed off.
Virgil stared at him in amazement. “You’re kidding. Don’t you at least know the prize?”
Seth added cheese to his bread and took another bite. He shook his head.
“The Wizenstone?” Virgil prompted. “The most powerful talisman in the world? Does that ring a bell?”
“I don’t know much about it,” Seth said.
Virgil laughed. “Seth, if you haven’t heard of the Wizenstone, why enter the Games?”
“I’ve heard of
