by Brandon Mull
Page 12
Somebody! They're attacking Seth!
He flailed toward the side of the pool. The roiling mass of fairies converged on Seth again, hauling him to the bottom of the pool amid eerie bursts of light. Kendra ran and seized the pool skimmer, swinging it at the relentless horde of fairies, never touching any of them no matter how dense the swarm appeared.
Seth resurfaced at the edge of the pool and threw his arms up onto the flagstones, trying to drag himself out of the water. Kendra stooped to assist him but shrieked instead. One arm was broad, flat, and rubbery. No elbow, no hand. A flipper coated in human skin. The other was long and boneless, a fleshy tentacle with limp fingers at the end.
She looked at his face. Long tusks curved down from a wide, lipless mouth. Patches of hair were missing. His eyes were glazed with terror.
The frenzied fairies mobbed him again, and he lost his grip on the side, vanishing in another pulsing succession of colored flashes. Steam sizzled up from the seething water.
What is the meaning of this? Grandpa Sorenson hollered, hustling to the edge of the pool. Lena followed behind him. The water in the pool flickered a few more times. Many of the fairies whizzed away. A few flew over to Grandpa.
One fairy in particular chirped angrily. She had short blue hair and silvery wings.
He did what? Grandpa said.
An unrecognizable monstrosity heaved itself out of the water and lay panting on the flagstones. The deformed creature had no clothes. Lena crouched beside him, placing a hand on his side.
He had no idea that would happen, Grandpa complained.
It was innocent!
The fairy twittered her disapproval.
Kendra gaped at the freakish form of her brother. Most of his hair had fallen out, revealing a lumpy scalp stippled with moles. His face was broader and flatter, with sunken eyes and tusks the size of bananas protruding from his mouth. A misshapen hump swelled high above his shoulders.
On his back below the hump, four blowholes puckered for air. His legs had united into a single crude tail. He slapped the ground with his flipper arm. The tentacle writhed like a snake.
An unlucky coincidence, Grandpa said consolingly.
Most unfortunate. Can't you have mercy on the boy?
The fairy chirped vehemently.
I'm sorry you feel that way. I feel terrible about what happened. I assure you the atrocity was unintentional.
After a final outburst of squealing sounds, the fairy zoomed away.
Are you okay? Kendra said, squatting beside Seth.
He made a garbled moan, then a second, more distressed complaint that sounded like a donkey gargling mouthwash.
Hush, Seth, Grandpa said. You've lost the ability of speech.
I'll fetch Dale, Lena said, hurrying off.
What have they done to him? Kendra asked.
An act of vengeance, Grandpa said grimly.
For trying to catch fairies?
For succeeding.
He caught one?
He did.
So they turned him into a deformed walrus? I thought they couldn't use magic against us!
He used potent magic to transform the captured fairy into an imp, unwittingly opening the door for magical retribution.
Seth doesn't know any magic!
I'm sure it was accidental, Grandpa said. Can you understand me, Seth? Slap your flipper three times if you grasp what I am saying.
The flipper flapped against the flagstones three times.
It was very foolish to catch a fairy, Seth, Grandpa said. I warned you they were unsafe. But I share some of the blame. I'm sure you were inspired by Maddox and wanted to begin a career as a fairy broker.
Seth nodded awkwardly, his entire bloated torso bobbing up and down.
I should have specifically forbidden it. I forget how curious and daring children can be. And how resourceful.
I would never have supposed you were capable of actually trapping one.
What magic did he use? Kendra asked, on the verge of hysterics.
If a captured fairy is kept indoors from sunset to sunrise, it changes into an imp.
What's an imp?
A fallen fairy. Nasty little creatures. Imps despise themselves as much as fairies adore themselves. Just as fairies are drawn to beauty, imps are drawn to ugliness.
Their personalities change so quickly?
Their personalities remain the same, Grandpa said.
Shallow and self-absorbed. The change in appearance reveals the tragic side of that mind-set. Vanity curdles into misery. They become spiteful and jealous, wallowing in wretchedness.
What about the fairies Maddox caught? Why don't they change?
He avoids leaving the cages indoors overnight. His captured fairies spend at least part of every night outdoors.
Just putting the container outside prevents them from becoming imps?
Sometimes powerful magic is accomplished by simple means.
Why did the other fairies attack Seth? Why would they care, if they're so selfish?
They care because they are selfish. Each fairy worries she could be next. I am told Seth even left a mirror with the fairy, so she could behold herself after she fell. The fairies considered that act particularly cruel.
Grandpa answered every question with great calm, no matter how accusingly or angrily Kendra asked it. His peaceful demeanor was helping her calm down a bit. I'm sure it was an accident, she said.
Seth nodded vigorously, blubber jiggling.
I suspect no malice. It was an unfortunate mishap. But the fairies have little interest in his motives. They were within their rights to exact retribution.
You can switch him back.
Restoring Seth to his original form is well beyond my abilities.
Seth let out a long, mournful bellow. Kendra patted his hump. We have to do something!
Yes, Grandpa said. He placed his hands over his eyes and then dragged them down his face. This would be very complicated to explain to your parents.
Who can fix him? Maddox?
Maddox is no magician. Besides, he is long gone.
Though I hesitate, I can think of only one person who might be able to undo the enchantments placed on your brother.
Who?
Seth has met her.
The witch?
Grandpa nodded. Under the circumstances, our only hope is Muriel Taggert.
The wheelbarrow swayed as it bumped over a root.
Dale managed to steady it. Seth groaned. He was naked except for a white towel wrapped around his middle.
Sorry, Seth, Dale said. This is a tricky path.
Are we almost there? Kendra asked.
Not much farther, Grandpa replied.
They walked single file, Grandpa in the lead, followed by Dale pushing the wheelbarrow, and then Kendra in the rear. What had begun as a nearly indiscernible trail near the barn had broadened into a well-trodden path. Later they branched off onto a smaller track. They had crossed no new paths since then.
The woods seem so quiet, Kendra said.
They are quietest when you stay on the paths, Grandpa said.
It seems too quiet.
There is a tension in the air. Your brother committed a serious offense. The fall of a fairy is a woeful tragedy. The retribution of the fairies was equally brutal. Eager eyes await to see if the conflict will escalate.
It won't, right?
I hope not. If Muriel cures your brother, the fairies could interpret it as an insult.
Would they attack him again?
Probably not. At least not directly. The punishment has been administered.
Can we heal the fairy?
Grandpa shook his head. No.
Could the witch?
Seth was altered by magic imposed upon him. But the potential to fall and become an imp is a fundamental aspect of b
eing a fairy. She transformed in accordance to a law that has existed as long as fairies have had wings.
Muriel might be able to undo the enchantments forced upon Seth. Reversing the fall of a fairy would be far beyond her capacity.
Poor fairy.
They reached a fork in the path. Grandpa turned left.
Almost there, he said. Keep silent as we converse with her.
Kendra stared at the bushes and trees, expecting to find spiteful eyes glaring back at her. What creatures would come into view if all the greenery were removed? What would happen if she raced off the path? How long before some gruesome monster devoured her?
Grandpa stopped, pointing away into the trees. Here we are.
Kendra saw the leafy shack in the distance, off the path through the trees.
Too much undergrowth for the wheelbarrow, Dale said, scooping Seth into his arms. Although Seth was much more blubbery, he had not increased in size. As they waded through the undergrowth, Dale carried him without much difficulty.
The ivy-shrouded shack drew near. They walked around to the front. The filthy witch sat inside, her back against the tree stump, chewing on a knot in a bristly rope.
A pair of imps sat on the tree stump. One was skinny, with prominent ribs and long, flat feet. The other was compact and plump.
Hello, Muriel, Grandpa said.
The imps sprang from the trunk and scurried out of sight. Muriel looked up, a slow grin revealing decayed teeth. Could that be Stan Sorenson? She rubbed her eyes theatrically and squinted at him. No, I must be dreaming.
Stan Sorenson said he would never visit me again!
I need your help, Grandpa said.
And you brought company. I remember Dale. Who is this fine young lady?
My granddaughter.
She got none of your looks, lucky for her. My name is Muriel, dear, pleased to meet you.
I'm Kendra.
Yes, of course. You have that lovely pink nightgown with the bow on the bosom.
Kendra shot a look at Grandpa. How could this crazy witch know about her pajamas?
I know a thing or two, Muriel continued, tapping her temple. Telescopes are for stars, dear, not for trees.
Pay her no heed, Grandpa said. She wants to give you the impression that she has power to spy on you in your bedroom. Witches prey on fear. Her influence does not extend beyond the walls of this shack.
Won't you step inside for some tea? she offered.
What news she has comes from imps, Grandpa continued.
And since imps are banned from the yard, her news came from a particular imp.
Muriel let out a shrieking laugh. The crazed cackle suited her haggard appearance much better than her speaking voice did.
The imp saw your room, and heard conversations from wherever Seth stashed it, Grandpa concluded. Nothing to fret about.
Muriel raised a finger in objection. Nothing to fret about, you say?
Nothing the imp saw or heard could be harmful, Grandpa clarified.
Except, perhaps, her own reflection, Muriel suggested.
Who is our final visitor? This poor, lumpy abomination?
Could it be? She clapped her hands and giggled.
Did our stalwart adventurer have a mishap? Did his clever tongue finally betray him?
You know what happened, Grandpa said.
I do, I do, she cackled. I knew he was insolent, but never suspected such cruelty! Lock him in a shed, I say. For the sake of the fairies. Lock him up tight.
Can you restore him? Grandpa asked.
Restore him? the witch exclaimed. After what he did?
It was an accident, as you are aware.
Why not ask me to rescue a killer from the noose? To spare a traitor from his shame?
Can you do it?
Shall I conjure up a medal for him to wear as well? A badge of honor for his crime?
Can you?
Chapter Eleven
Muriel dropped the act. She regarded her visitors with a sly expression. You know the price.
I can't loosen a knot, Grandpa said.
Muriel tossed up her gnarled hands. You know I need the energy from the knot for the spell, she said. He has more than seventy separate hexes operating on him. You ought to untie seventy knots.
What about- No dickering. One knot, and your beastly grandson will be restored to his original form. Without the knot, I would never be able to counter the enchantment. This is fairy magic. You knew the price before you came. No dickering.
Grandpa sagged. Show me the rope.
Lay the boy at my threshold.
Dale placed Seth in front of the door. Standing in the doorway, Muriel held the rope out to Grandpa. There were two knots. Both had dried blood on them. One was still moist with saliva. Take your pick, she said.
Of my own free will, I sever this knot, Grandpa said.
Leaning forward, he blew gently on the higher of the two knots. It unraveled.
The air trembled. On hot days, Kendra had seen the air shimmer in the distance. This was similar, but right in front of her. She felt pulsing vibrations, like she was standing in front of a powerful stereo speaker during a song with lots of bass. The ground seemed to be tipping.
Muriel extended a hand over Seth. She mumbled an unintelligible incantation. His blubber rippled as if he were boiling inside. It looked like thousands of worms were under his skin, squirming to find a way out. Putrid vapor fumed up from his flesh. His fat appeared to be evaporating.
His misshapen body convulsed.
Kendra extended her arms and swayed as the ground teetered even more. There was a burst of darkness, an anti-flash, and Kendra stumbled, barely catching herself.
The odd sensation ended. The air cleared and balance returned. Seth sat up. He looked exactly like his old self.
No tusks. No flippers. No blowholes. Just an eleven-year-old kid with a towel wrapped around his waist. He scrambled away from the shack and got to his feet.
Satisfied? Muriel asked.
How do you feel, Seth? Grandpa inquired.
Seth patted his bare chest. I feel better.
Muriel grinned. Thank you, little adventurer. You did me a great service today. I am indebted.
You shouldn't have done it, Grandpa, Seth said.
Had to be done, he said. We best be going.
Stay a while, Muriel offered.
No thanks, Grandpa said.
Very well. Spurn my hospitality. Kendra, nice to meet you, may you find less happiness than you deserve. Dale, you are as mute as your brother, and nearly as pale. Seth, please have another mishap soon. Stan, you lack the wit of an orangutan, bless your soul. Do not be strangers.
Kendra gave Seth socks, shoes, shorts, and a shirt.
Once he put them on, they returned to the path.
Can I ride in the wheelbarrow on the way back? Seth asked.
