Fablehaven V - Keys to the Demon Prison by Brandon Mull

Author:Brandon Mull [Mull, Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-02-14T00:39:23.416000+00:00

Chapter 17

Preparations

Newel and Doren arrived at the manor just as Seth was deciding they wouldn‘t show. Seth had waited on the porch for nearly an hour after contacting Bracken, his confidence steadily waning.

He was on the verge of asking Hugo to take him back to the main house when the satyrs came scampering across the unkempt lawn. Each had a pack over his shoulder. Newel wore a dented helm. Doren had a bow.

―The word is abroad that Graulas has claimed this house,‖ Newel said by way of greeting.

―We were hoping it was a hoax,‖ Doren added.

―No trick,‖ Seth said loudly. ―I was asked to claim it on his behalf.‖ He lowered his voice.

―Please don‘t yell about my hoaxes where any imp can hear.‖

―Right,‖ Newel said with a knowing wink. He cupped a hand beside his mouth. ―We had better clear out of here before the dark master of this haunted abode returns!‖

―You don‘t have to oversell it, either,‖ Seth whispered.

―We brought you some gear,‖ Doren said, unshouldering his pack and rummaging through the contents. He pulled out an oval shield about a yard tall. ―Heroes need proper equipment.‖

―Thanks,‖ Seth said.

―Adamant,‖ Doren said proudly, handing over the shield. ―We fished it out of the same tar pit where we found the shirt of mail.‖

―Probably all belonged to the same careless adventurer,‖ Newel speculated. ―Too much money, not enough talent.‖

Seth hefted the shield. It felt light, almost like a toy or a prop, but he knew that if it was made of adamant, it was stronger than steel and absolutely priceless. ―What a great gift.‖

―We were reserving it to trade for batteries,‖ Newel explained. ―But in light of our new arrangement—well, investors need to protect their interests.‖

―It would be a shame if I died before you got your generator,‖ Seth said.

Doren nudged Newel. ―The shield isn‘t all.‖

From his pack, Newel removed a sword in a battered leather scabbard. Jewels adorned the golden hilt. Newel presented it to Seth, who drew the sword. It felt too light. ―This isn‘t adamant too?‖ Seth asked.

―Tempered adamant,‖ Doren gushed. ―We found just the naked blade. The edge is keen. The nipsies crafted the hilt, and we salvaged the scabbard from an old scrap heap.‖

―The nipsies couldn‘t have made it just now?‖ Seth asked.

―No,‖ Newel chuckled. ―It took them six weeks. We were simply preparing another item for barter.‖

Seth belted on the scabbard and sheathed the sword. ―Why don‘t you guys have armor?‖

Newel snorted derisively. ―Slows us down. We prefer to avoid injuries by not getting hit.‖

―What about the helmet?‖ Seth asked.

Newel rapped the helm with his knuckles. ―This old thing? It‘s my good-luck charm.‖

―Tell him the story,‖ Doren urged.

―Satyrs never wear armor, including helmets,‖ Newel began, using his hands expressively. ―But years ago I was in a play, and the helm was part of my costume. During the big battle scene, a few of us were assailing a castle. We had quite a set. The main tower must have been fifteen feet tall, fashioned from real stone.

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