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Fablehaven1-Fablehaven

Page 19

by Brandon Mull

listen to me. If you can hear me, we need you to answer.

  This is very important. The hen appeared to be listening.

  Should we untie the last knot to have Muriel Taggert

  restore you?

  The head bobbed.

  Was that a yes?

  The head bobbed again.

  Can you give us a no?

  The hen did not respond.

  Grandma. Ruth. Can you shake your head so we can

  be sure you hear us?

  Again the chicken made no acknowledgment.

  Maybe it took all she had to answer your first question,

  Seth speculated.

  It did seem like she nodded, Kendra said. And I

  don’t know what else we can do. Freeing the witch is a

  high price to pay, but is it worse than having no hope of

  finding Grandpa and keeping Grandma trapped forever as a

  chicken?

  We should free her.

  Kendra paused, scrutinizing her feelings. Was this really

  their only option? It seemed to be. Let’s go back, she

  agreed.

  They returned to the doorway of the shack. We want

  you to restore Grandma, Kendra said.

  You will voluntarily sunder my last knot, the final

  impediment to my independence, if I restore your grandmother

  to her human form?

  Yes. How do we do it?

  Just say ‘of my own free will I sever this knot’ and then

  blow on it. You should probably find something for your

  grandmother to wear. She will not have any clothes on.

  Kendra ran to the wheelbarrow and returned with the

  bathrobe and a pair of slippers. Muriel stood in the doorway,

  clutching the rope. Lay your grandmother at my

  threshold, she instructed.

  I want to blow on the knot, Seth said.

  Sure, Kendra answered.

  You let Grandma out of the bag.

  Kendra squatted and pulled the mouth of the bag wide

  open. Muriel held the rope out to Seth. The chicken

  looked up, ruffling her feathers and flapping her wings.

  Kendra tried to steady her, disgusted by the feel of slender

  bones moving beneath her hands.

  Of my own free will, I sever this knot, Seth said, as

  Goldilocks squawked noisily. He blew, and the knot

  unraveled.

  Muriel extended both hands over the flustered hen and

  began softly chanting indecipherable words. The air

  wavered. Kendra squeezed the squirming hen. At first it felt

  like bubbles were shooting through the flesh of the bird;

  then the delicate bones started to churn. Kendra dropped

  Goldilocks and stepped back.

  Kendra saw everything as if through fun-house lenses.

  Muriel appeared distorted, first stretching broad, then tall.

  Seth became an hourglass with a wide head, a tiny waist,

  and clownish feet. Rubbing her eyes failed to cure her

  warped vision. When she looked down, the ground curved

  away in all directions. She leaned and swung her arms to

  maintain her balance.

  The fun-house Muriel began to ripple, as did the

  startling image of Goldilocks shedding feathers as she

  expanded into a person. The scene grew dim, as if clouds

  had blocked the sun, and a dark aura gathered around

  Muriel and Grandma. The darkness expanded, momentarily

  obscuring everything, and then Grandma stood before

  them, completely naked. Kendra put the bathrobe over her

  shoulders.

  From inside the shack came a sound like the rushing

  of a terrible wind. The ground rumbled. Get down,

  Grandma said, pulling Kendra to the ground. Seth also fell

  flat.

  A furious gale blasted the walls of the shack into shrapnel.

  The roof rocketed beyond the treetops, a geyser of

  wooden confetti. The stump split down the center.

  Fragments of timber and ivy whistled in all directions, clattering

  against the trunks of trees and slashing through the

  undergrowth.

  Kendra raised her head. Dressed in rags, Muriel gaped

  in wonder. Chips of wood continued to fall like hail, along

  with fluttering bits of ivy. Muriel grinned, displaying

  deformed teeth and inflamed gums. She began to chuckle,

  tears brimming in her eyes. She flung her wrinkled arms

  wide. Emancipation! she cried. Justice at last!

  Grandma Sorenson rose to her feet. She was shorter

  and stouter than Muriel, with hair the color of cinnamon

  and sugar. You must vacate this property immediately.

  Muriel glowered at Grandma, the joy in her gaze

  eclipsed by spite. A tear escaped and slid down a crease to

  her chin. This is my thanks for unbinding your curse?

  You have your reward for the services you rendered.

  You have emerged from confinement. Eviction from this

  preserve is the consequence of prior indiscretions.

  My debts have been paid. You are not the caretaker.

  My authority is the same as my husband’s. In his

  absence, I am indeed the caretaker. I invite you to leave

  and never return.

  Muriel turned and began tromping away. Where I go

  is my business. She did not look back.

  Not on my preserve.

  Your preserve, is it? I object to your claims of ownership.

  Muriel still had not looked back. Grandma started

  walking after her, an old woman in a bathrobe trailing an

  old woman dressed in rags.

  New crimes will entail new punishments, Grandma

  warned.

  You might be surprised who administers the penalties.

  Don’t provoke new enmity. Depart in peace.

  Grandma quickened her pace and caught hold of Muriel by

  the upper arm.

  Muriel twisted free, turning to face Grandma. Tread

  lightly, Ruth. If you seek trouble here and now, in front of

  the little ones, I will oblige you. This is the wrong moment

  to cling to antiquated protocol. Things have changed more

  than you realize. I suggest you depart before I regain authority

  here.

  Seth ran toward them. Grandma took a step back. Seth

  flung a handful of salt at the witch. It had no effect. Muriel

  pointed at him. Your recompense is coming, my bold little

  whelp. I have a long memory.

  Your actions require retribution, Grandma warned.

  Muriel was striding away again. You speak to deaf

  ears.

  You said you’d tell us how to find our Grandpa,

  Kendra called.

  Muriel laughed without looking back.

  Hold your tongues, children, Grandma said. Muriel,

  I have commanded you to depart. Your defiance is an act

  of war.

  You issue evictions in order to build a case for wrongdoing

  and thereby justify retaliation, Muriel said. I do not

  fear a feud with you.

  Grandma turned away from Muriel. Kendra, come

  here. Grandma pulled Seth to her in a tight hug. When

  Kendra drew near, she embraced her as well. I am sorry for

  misleading you children. I should not have guided you to

  Muriel. I did not realize this was her final knot.

  What do you mean? Kendra said. You heard us talking.

  Grandma smiled sadly. As a chicken, thinking clearly

  becomes an exhausting challenge. My mind was in a haze.

/>   To interact with you like a person, even for a moment,

  required tremendous concentration.

  Seth nodded toward Muriel. Should we stop her? I bet

  the three of us could take her.

  If we attack, she will be able to defend herself with

  magic, Grandma said. We would forfeit the protection

  afforded by the foundational covenants of the treaty.

  Have we messed things up? Seth asked. Setting her

  free, I mean.

  Things were already dismal, Grandma said. Having

  her on the loose certainly complicates the situation.

  Whether my assistance can compensate for her interference

  remains to be seen. Grandma looked flushed. She

  fanned her face. Your grandfather left us in quite a

  predicament.

  It wasn’t his fault, Seth said.

  Grandma bent over, placing her hands on her knees.

  Kendra steadied her. I’m all right, Kendra. Just a little

  woozy. She stood up experimentally. Tell me what happened.

  I know undesirable beings entered the house and

  took Stan.

  They took Lena, too, and I think they turned Dale

  into a statue, Kendra reported. We found him in the

  yard.

  Grandma nodded. As caretaker, Stan is a valuable trophy.

  Same with a fallen nymph. By contrast Dale seemed

  unimpressive and was left behind. Any clue who took

  them?

  We found some footprints near Dale, Seth said.

  Did they lead you anywhere?

  Have you any idea where Grandpa and Lena are being

  held?

  No.

  Muriel probably knows, Grandma said. She has an

  alliance with the imps.

  Speaking of Muriel, Kendra said, where did she go?

  They all looked around. Muriel was no longer in sight.

  Grandma frowned. She must have special means of hiding

  or traveling. No matter. We aren’t equipped to deal with

  her now.

  What do we do? Seth asked.

  Our first order of business is to find your Grandpa.

  Learning his location should dictate how best to proceed.

  How do we do that?

  Grandma sighed. Our nearest option would be Nero.

  Who? Kendra said.

  A cliff troll. He has a seeing stone. If we can successfully

  bargain with him, he should be able to reveal Stan’s

  location.

  Do you know him well? Seth asked.

  Never met him. Your grandfather had dealings with

  him once. It will be dangerous, but at present he is

  probably our best alternative. We should hurry. I’ll tell you

  more on the way.

  Trolling for Grandpa

  Have you ever heard people conversing while you’re

  falling asleep? Grandma said. The words reach you

  from a distance, and you can barely glimpse the meaning.

  That happened to me in a motel once when we were

  on a trip, Kendra said. Mom and Dad were talking. I fell

  asleep, and their conversation turned into a dream.

  Then to some degree you can grasp my state of mind

  as a chicken. You say it is June. My last clear memories are

  from February, when the spell was enacted. For the first

  couple of days I remained fairly alert. Over time, I lapsed

  into a twilight consciousness, incapable of rational

  thought, unable to interpret my surroundings as a human

  would.

  Weird, Seth said.

  I recognized you kids when you arrived, but it was

  through a clouded lens. My mind did not reawaken until

  you let those creatures in through the window. The shock

  jolted me out of my stupor. It was a struggle to cling to my

  elevated consciousness. I cannot describe the concentration

  it required to write that message to you. My mind

  wanted to slip away, to relax. I wanted to eat the delicious

  kernels, not arrange them into bizarre patterns.

  They traveled along a wide dirt road. Rather than head

  back toward the house, they had continued on the trail

  beyond , venturing deeper into the forest. The

  trail had eventually forked and then intersected the road

  they were currently following. The sun blazed overhead,

  the air was heavy and humid, and the forest remained

  unnaturally silent all around them.

  Kendra and Seth had brought a pair of jeans, but they

  turned out to be from Grandma’s skinnier days, and were

  not even close to fitting. The tennis shoes belonged to

  Grandpa and were several sizes too big. So Grandma now

  wore a bathing suit under her robe, and her feet remained

  in slippers.

  Grandma raised her hands, staring as she opened and

  closed them. Strange to have proper fingers again, she

  murmured.

  How did you become a chicken in the first place?

  Seth asked.

  Pride made me careless, Grandma said. A sobering

  reminder that none of us are immune to the dangers here,

  even when we imagine we have the upper hand. Let’s save

  the details for another time.

  Why didn’t Grandpa change you back? Kendra asked.

  Grandma’s eyebrows shot up. Probably because I kept

  laying eggs for his breakfast. I like to think that if he had

  taken me to Muriel in the first place, I could have prevented

  all this nonsense from happening. But I suppose he

  was searching for an alternate cure for my condition.

  Besides asking Muriel, Seth said.

  Exactly.

  Then why did he have Muriel cure me?

  I’m sure he knew your parents would return soon,

  leaving insufficient time to discover another remedy.

  You had no idea Seth had become a mutant walrus

  and been restored by Muriel? Kendra said.

  I missed all that, Grandma said. As a hen, most

  details escaped me. When I urged you to take me to Muriel,

  I assumed she still had two knots remaining. Only when I

  looked up and observed the single knot did I begin to

  fathom the actual predicament. By then it was too late.

  Incidentally, how did you end up as a walrus?

  Seth and Kendra related the particulars about turning

  the fairy into an imp and the subsequent retribution.

  Grandma listened, asking a few clarifying questions.

  As the path curved around a tall thicket, a covered

  bridge came into view up ahead. Spanning a ravine, the

  bridge was composed of dark wood. Although aged and

  weathered, it appeared to be in reasonably good repair.

  Our destination draws near, Grandma said.

  Beyond the bridge? Kendra asked.

  Down in the ravine. Grandma stopped, studying the

  foliage off to either side of the road. I am suspicious of the

  stillness in these woods. A great tension rests upon

  Fablehaven today. She resumed walking.

  Because of Grandpa? Seth asked.

  Yes, and your newfound enmity with the fairies. But I

  worry there may be something more. I am anxious to speak

  with Nero.

  Will he help us? Kendra asked.

  He would rather harm us. Trolls can be violent and

  unpredictable. I would not solicit information from him if

  our situation were less dire.

  What’s the plan? Seth asked.

 
Our only chance is clever bargaining. Cliff trolls are

  cunning and ruthless, but their avarice can be a weakness.

  Avarice? Seth asked.

  Greed. Cliff trolls are miserly creatures. Treasure

  hoarders. Cunning negotiators. They relish the thrill of

  besting an opponent. Whatever agreement we reach, Nero

  will have to feel like the undisputed victor. I only hope we

  can determine something he values that we are willing to

  part with.

  What if we can’t? Kendra said.

  We must. If we fail to reach an arrangement, Nero will

  not let us leave unscathed.

  They arrived at the brink of the ravine. Kendra placed

  a hand against the bridge and leaned forward to look down.

  It was surprisingly deep. Tenacious vegetation clung to the

  steep walls. A narrow stream trickled along the bottom.

  How do we get down there?

  Carefully, Grandma said, taking a seat at the edge of

  the precipice. Rolling over onto her stomach, she started

  backing down the slope feet first, looking ridiculous in her

  robe and slippers. The incline was not completely vertical,

  but most of the descent was quite steep.

  If we fall, we’ll tumble all the way to the bottom,

  Kendra observed.

  A sensible reason not to fall, Grandma agreed, moving

  carefully downward. Come along, it looks worse than

  it is. Just find solid handholds and take it one step at a

  time.

  Seth followed Grandma, and then Kendra started

  down, desperately hugging the side of the ravine, taking

  tentative steps, hunting blindly for the next place to rest

  her foot. But Grandma was right. Once she got going, the

  climb was less difficult than it appeared. There were many

  handholds, including scrawny bushes with well-anchored

  stems. After proceeding gingerly at first, she grew in confidence

  and increased the speed of her descent.

  When Kendra reached the bottom, Seth was squatting

  near a cluster of blossoms at the edge of the stream.

  Grandma Sorenson stood nearby. Took you long enough,

  Seth said.

  I was being careful.

  I’ve never seen somebody move an inch per hour

  before.

  No time for bickering, Grandma said. Kendra did

  just fine, Seth. We need to hurry along.

  I like the smell of these flowers, Seth said.

  Come away from those, Grandma insisted.

  Why? They smell great; take a whiff.

  Those flowers are perilous. And we’re in a hurry.

  Grandma waved for him to follow and started walking,

  picking her way carefully along the rocky floor of the

 

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