Secrets of the Dragon Sanctuary

He combed his fingers through his hair. "Nobody has been a dragon brother for a very long time. My dad worried that my abilities would turn me into a target, so he kept me a secret. After he was killed, my dad’s best friend Arlin brought me to the Knights. Since the Sphinx was running the Knights when I joined, he knew the basics of what I could do, and so we’re p-p-pretty sure the Society has guessed what I am. But we’re still trying to keep the details of being a dragon brother quiet in case they don’t know everything."

Trask rose to his feet. "Thanks for the candid introductions. As you can see, we have an impressive group assembled. All of you have at least been in the presence of a dragon, although a couple of you have never been to a dragon sanctuary.

"Let me convey a few thoughts about dragons, and then we’ll get to bed. Gavin, feel free to jump in. Dragons are magical from the tips of their fangs to the ends of their tails. The old ones are among the most ancient creatures on the planet. Highly intelligent, they have their own unique languages, but often speak hundreds of additional tongues. No two dragons are identical. They have diverse appearances, various breath weapons, and distinct spell-casting capabilities. Much like humans, dragons have a wide array of personalities. Some are just. Others are wicked.

"Communicating with dragons is difficult. Paralyzing fear radiates from them. In the presence of a dragon, most people find that their muscles lock up and their tongues stop working. With the unique exception of Gavin, you should never look a dragon in the eye. To do so will leave you entranced and incapacitated.

"Since dragons are not accustomed to communicating with other creatures, the best way to survive a draconic encounter is to hold an intelligent conversation. They find it amusing, and will often spare your life.

"Dragon sanctuaries are unlike other preserves you may have visited. Some protections are usually afforded to the caretaker, who also serves as the gatekeeper. Otherwise, there are no protections to visitors. For those of us heading beyond the abode of the caretaker, it will be like venturing into the wild. And we will have more than dragons to contend with. These sanctuaries were founded as a home for creatures too large and powerful to cohabit with the beings at the more traditional preserves. Little is known about Wyrmroost. Who can say what we might encounter? Gavin, do you have any words of advice?"

Gavin shrugged. "We’re going in there well armed. Our weapons might come in handy against some of the creatures we may encounter. But forget about your weapons if we face a threat from dragons. The first goal is to talk. The second is to flee or hide. Humans can’t stand against dragons. Once upon a time there were dragon slayers. That time is long gone.

"Here’s a metaphor my dad used: Dragons see us as we see mice. We’re not very tasty. We’re not a real threat. If they find us underfoot, they’ll kill us just to keep the area tidy. But if we talk to them, they’ll view us as we would a talking mouse. We become a surprising novelty, a cute pet. In the presence of a dragon, the goal is to amuse and impress. Play the role of a p-p-p-precocious mouse that no human would kill."

"Sound advice," Trask approved. "Any questions? No? Fine with me. We’ve gone over the basics. I’m proud to work with each of you. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow will be an eventful day."

Mara blew out the candle.

* * *

The splintery wall of the crate pricked Seth’s arm. The tin of whale butter in his pocket pressed against his thigh. He shifted position, but the movement bent his neck forward uncomfortably, nearly forcing his chin to his chest. The close, stale air inside the crate smelled of dust and rotting wood. He wished he could bore a hole in the side. Sweat slicked his skin. The carpet tented over him served as an unwanted blanket in the balmy darkness.

The saddest part was that the cramped stuffiness of the crate was almost certainly unnecessary. The odds were slim that anyone would descend the ladder until the next morning. He had clung to the ladder near the mouth of the knapsack, listening as Warren bade Kendra good night, and then descended to hide in case anyone decided to stow some final items before going to bed.

All remained quiet. It was probably safe to end the claustrophobic torture, but he refused to risk losing his chance to travel with the others to Wyrmroost. He had found a few roomier crates, but this one was up against the wall, well protected by other shabby containers. Inside this crate, with the lid on and a carpet draped over him, nobody would find him.

Tanu had missed him when he had searched inside the knapsack just before leaving. The big Samoan had thoroughly checked the room with a bright flashlight. He had even lifted the lid to the crate where Seth was hiding, but he had not looked under the carpet.

Seth wondered what Grandma and Grandpa were doing at the moment. As night fell, they would be freaking out, thinking he had roamed off into the woods and gotten lost or captured or killed. Any of those conclusions were fine with him, as long as they failed to guess the truth.

His decision to stow away inside the knapsack had not been made alone. On Christmas Eve, Grandpa had brought him into his office to deliver the news that he would not be part of the team sent to recover the key from Wyrmroost. Having already considered stowing away as a possible contingency, to allay suspicions, Seth had received the news with stoic acceptance.

After the seven members of the team had been announced to the rest of the family, Seth had retired to his room to think and found Warren waiting, spinning a basketball on the tip of his finger.

"Shame you won’t be coming," Watren said, eyes on the ball.

"I’m used to it," Seth replied. "I always miss the coolest stuff."

"Think fast." Warren chucked the ball at him. Seth caught it and tossed it back briskly. "How bad do you want to stow away?" the man asked.

"Stow away?"

Warren grinned. "Don’t bother with the innocent routine. I can spot fake innocence a mile away. Must be pretty tempting when you think about that knapsack. We’ll have to bring it for supplies, of course. Lots of room in there. Lot of places to hide."

"You’re a jerk," Seth said.

"Take it easy. I’m not here to rub it in. I kind of hope you do it."

"What?"

Warren stood, dribbling the basketball between his legs.

"I think you’re right. You’ve got unusual abilities that could come in handy. If you hadn’t pulled the nail from the revenant, I’d still be a mute albino. If you hadn’t been at the old manor when we went to retrieve the Chronometer, we never would have found Patton and Fablehaven would have fallen. I’m a believer, Seth. I’m not here to make you go. But if you want to go, I’m not going to discourage you. In fact, tomorrow afternoon, I’ll leave the knapsack in the backseat of the SUV, and I’ll make sure a door is unlocked."