Kendra sprinted toward the woods, taking the most direct route she could, tromping through flowerbeds and knifing between blossoming shrubs. The thorns of a rosebush raked her arm. Playing soccer during the previous school year had led to a habit of jogging. She appreciated her added speed and stamina as she reached the woods well ahead of the hulking Samoan and still going strong.
“The woods are deadly at night!” Tanu hollered. “I don’t want any harm to come to you! It’s pitch black, you’re going to have an accident. Come back.” His phrasing was labored as he tried to run and yell at the same time.
The woods were dim, but Kendra could see well enough. She jumped a fallen limb and dodged around some thorny briars. There was no way she was going back. Vanessa had staged a coup. Kendra knew that if she could get away, maybe she could return later with a plan.
Kendra no longer heard Tanu pursuing her. Chest heaving, she paused and looked back. Tanu stood at the edge of the woods, hands on his hips in a feminine stance. He looked hesitant to enter. “I really am your friend, Kendra. I’ll see that no harm comes to you!”
Kendra had her doubts. She stayed low and tried to pick her way more quietly, worried that if she gave away her exact location Tanu might be encouraged and give chase. He held his hands up to his eyes, as if he was having trouble seeing. It was apparently more shadowy where she was walking than where he stood. He did not come after her, and Kendra worked her way deeper into the woods.
She was not on a path. But this was roughly the route she and Seth had taken when they first came upon the naiad pond. If she kept going straight, she would reach the hedge surrounding the pond, and from there she knew how to find a path. Not that she had any idea where she should go from there.
Walking briskly, swerving through the bracken, Kendra tried to piece together what had happened. Grandpa had called Vanessa a narcoblix. She remembered that Errol had told her and Seth about blixes before Seth snuck into the mortuary. There was a type of blix that drained away your youth, and another that could animate the dead. Narcoblixes were the kind that could control people in their sleep.
Which meant that Grandpa was right — Coulter was innocent. He had been under Vanessa’s influence. Vanessa didn’t care if Seth got eaten or if Coulter was turned into a mindless albino. She was just doing reconnaissance on the grove so she could figure out how to get to the artifact. She may have even wanted for Seth to be eaten in order to get Olloch out of the way.
Kendra was seething. Vanessa had killed her brother. Vanessa! She never would have guessed it. Vanessa had saved them from Errol and acted so kindly. And now she had backstabbed them and taken over the house.
What could Kendra do? She considered going back to the Fairy Queen, but something deep inside warned against that course of action. It was hard to explain — it simply felt wrong. She had a quiet certainty that if she returned, she really would end up turning into dandelion fluff, like the ill-fated man who had ventured to the island in the middle of the pond in the story Grandpa had told her last summer.
Were Grandma and Grandpa really all right? Was Vanessa going to hurt them? Kendra wanted to believe that Vanessa meant it when she said she meant them no harm. There was reason to hope she was sincere. Taking a life on Fablehaven soil would strip Vanessa of the protections afforded by the treaty. She couldn’t have that happen if she planned to go after the artifact, right? The need to respect the treaty should protect her grandparents if nothing else.
Then again, Vanessa had already indirectly killed Seth by leading him out of the yard. Maybe that didn’t count, since Olloch had actually done the killing.
To make matters worse, somewhere Vanessa had an accomplice — the unseen intruder, Christopher Vogel. How long before he found out she had usurped the house and joined her there? Or was he off working some other aspect of a plan more complex than Kendra could guess at?
Kendra had to do something. Where was Hugo? Would he help her if she could find him? He didn’t have to take orders from her, but his free will was blossoming, so maybe she could persuade him to lend a hand. On second thought, Vanessa had been authorized to issue commands to Hugo, so chances were the treacherous narcoblix could instantly turn the golem into an enemy if Kendra brought him near.
There was nobody else. Grandpa, Grandma, Dale, and Tanu were captured. Coulter was an albino just like Warren. Seth was dead. She tried not to let the thought derail her.
What were her assets? She had grabbed the potion pouch, although she wasn’t very confident which potion was which. She wished she had paid closer attention when Tanu was showing Seth. At least the potions couldn’t be used against her.
What about Lena? The thought sent a thrill of hope through her. Kendra was headed toward the pond. She hadn’t seen her former friend yet during this return visit to Fablehaven. The last time Kendra had seen her, Lena was a full-fledged naiad again and had tried to drown her. After the full-sized fairies saved Fablehaven from Bahumat, while undoing much of the harm the demon had caused, they restored Lena to her state as a naiad. Decades ago she had voluntarily left the water and married Patton Burgess. The decision had made her mortal, although she had aged more slowly than he. After he passed away, she toured the world, eventually returning to Fablehaven with plans to end her days at the preserve. Lena had resisted the fairies when they hauled her off to the pond. But once she was back in the water, she had appeared content.
Maybe Lena could be tempted to leave the water if Kendra explained the dire situation! Then Kendra wouldn’t have to face the situation alone! It certainly beat having no plan. New purpose entered Kendra’s stride.
Before long Kendra reached the tall hedge. She knew that the hedge ringed the pond, and if she followed it she would eventually reach an opening with a path. When she and Seth had first visited the pond, he had found a low opening where they had managed to crawl under the hedge. She kept an eye out for such an aperture, since it would certainly save some time.
She did not travel too far along the thick hedge before she noticed a pronounced indentation. When she investigated more closely, she found it was impassable — the foliage was too dense. The next indentation she noticed was less obvious, but when she crouched she found it went all the way through.
She wriggled through the hedge on her belly, wondering what other animals or creatures used this cramped entrance. At the far side she stood and surveyed the pond. A whitewashed boardwalk connected a dozen wooden pavilions around the dark water. Face tilting toward the sky, Kendra noticed there were no stars, and no moon either. It was overcast. Still, enough light was apparently filtering through the clouds to illuminate the night, for although the clearing was gloomy, she could make out the contours of the lawn and the latticework of the gazebos and the foliage on the island in the middle of the pond.
Kendra crossed the lawn to the nearest gazebo. Somebody certainly took pride in caring for this area. The grass was always tidy, and the paint on the woodwork was never peeling. Maybe it was the result of a spell.
Projecting from the boardwalk below one of the pavilions was a little pier attached to a floating boathouse. The last time Kendra had seen Lena was at the end of that pier, so it seemed as good a place as any to call for her.
Kendra noticed no evidence of life in the clearing. At times she had seen satyrs and other creatures, but tonight all was silent. The tenebrous water of the pond was still and impenetrable. Kendra tried to walk quietly, out of reverence for the silence. The tranquil night was ominous. Somewhere below the inscrutable surface of the pond waited Kendra’s old friend. With the right plea, hopefully Lena would renounce life as a naiad and come to her aid. Lena had decided to leave the pond once — she could do it again.
Walking along the pier, Kendra kept away from the edges. She knew the naiads would enjoy nothing more than to pull her in and drown her. Kendra gazed at the island.
Again a sense of foreboding filled her. Returning to the island would be a mistake. The feeling was so tangible that she
wondered if it had something to do with being fairy-kind. Perhaps she could sense what the Fairy Queen considered permissible. Or maybe she was just scared.
Stopping just short of the end of the pier, Kendra licked her lips. She felt hesitant to speak and desecrate the silence. But she needed help, and could not afford to waste time. “Lena, it’s Kendra, I need to talk.”
The words seemed to die the instant they left her lips. They did not carry or reverberate. The dark pond remained inscrutable. “Lena, this is an emergency, please come speak to me,” she tried in a louder voice.
Again, she felt she had spoken for her own ears alone. There was no hint of response from her shadowy surroundings.
“Why is she back again?” a voice said from off to her right. The sound came up out of the water, the words soft but undistorted.
“Who said that?” Kendra asked.
“She’s here to show off, what else?” another voice answered from directly below the pier. “Mortals get so proud when they know our language, as if speaking it weren’t the easiest and most natural ability.”
“I’ll allow that it beats her clumsy honking,” a third voice giggled. “Barking like a seal.”
Several voices giggled from under the obscure water. “I need to speak with Lena,” Kendra pleaded.
“She needs to find a new hobby,” the first voice said.
“Maybe she should take up swimming,” the third voice suggested. Laughter rippled all around her.
“You don’t have to talk like I’m not here,” Kendra said. “I can hear every word just fine.”
“She’s an eavesdropper,” the voice under the pier said.
“She should come closer to the water so we can hear her better,” said a new voice near the end of the pier.
“I’m just fine where I am,” Kendra said.
“Just fine, she says,” said another new voice. “A big clumsy scarecrow glued to the ground, plodding around on stilts.” The comment initiated the longest bout of tittering yet.
“Better than being trapped in an aquarium,” Kendra said.
The pond became silent. “She is not very polite,” the voice under the pier finally said.
A new voice chimed in. “What do you expect? Her feet are probably sore.” Kendra rolled her eyes at the giggles that followed. She suspected the naiads would gladly trade insults all night.
“Fablehaven is in danger,” Kendra said. “The Society of the Evening Star has taken my Grandma and Grandpa prisoner. My brother Seth has been killed. I need to talk to Lena.”
“I’m here, Kendra,” said a familiar voice. It was slightly more light and musical, slightly less warm, but it was definitely Lena.
“Hush, Lena,” said the voice under the pier.
“I’ll speak if I choose,” Lena said.
“What do you care of mortal politics?” one of the earlier voices chided. “They come and go. Have you forgotten what mortals do best? They die. It’s the one talent they have in common.”
“Kendra, come close to the water,” Lena said. Her voice was nearer. Kendra could vaguely see her face beneath the surface of the pond to the left of the pier. Her nose was nearly breaking the surface.
“Not too close,” Kendra said, squatting well out of reach.
“Why are you here, Kendra?”
“I need your help. The preserve is at the brink of falling again.”
“I know you think that matters,” Lena said.
“It does matter,” Kendra said.
“It seems to matter for a moment. Just like a lifetime.”
“Don’t you care about Grandma and Grandpa? They could die!”
“They will die. You’ll all die. And at the time it will seem like it matters.”
“It does matter!” Kendra said. “What do you mean, nothing matters? What about Patton? Did he matter?”
There came no answer. Lena’s face broke the surface of the water, gazing up at Kendra with liquid eyes. Even in the weak light, Kendra could see that Lena looked much younger. Her skin was smoother and more evenly colored. Her hair had only a few strands of gray. The water around Lena sloshed and churned and she vanished.
“Hey,” Kendra said. “Leave her alone.”
“She’s through talking with you,” said the voice under the pier. “You are not welcome here.”
“You pulled her away!” Kendra accused. “You jealous little airheads. Waterheads. What do you do, brainwash her? Lock her in a closet and play songs about living under the sea?”
“You do not know of what you speak,” said the voice under the pier. “She would have perished and now she will live. This is your final warning. Go face your fate. Leave Lena to enjoy hers.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kendra said resolutely. “Bring Lena back. You can’t do anything to me if I stay away from the water.”
“Oh, no?” said the voice under the pier.
Kendra did not like the knowing tone of the speaker. Too much confidence. She had to be bluffing. If naiads left the water, they became mortal. Still, Kendra looked around, worried that somebody might be sneaking up on her to push her into the water. She saw nobody.
“Hello?” Kendra said. “Hello?”
Silence. She felt certain they could hear her.
“Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” one of the earlier voices sang.
Kendra crouched, trying to be ready for anything. Were the naiads going to throw something at her? Maybe they could collapse the pier? The night remained quiet and still.
A hand reached up out of the water at the end of the pier. Kendra jumped back, her heart in her throat. A wooden hand. Little golden hooks served as joints. Mendigo scrambled out of the dark water and crawled onto the pier.
Kendra backed away as Mendigo stood, the wooden limber-jack Muriel had changed into a fearsome servant. The overgrown primitive puppet had been pulled into the water by the naiads the year before. It had not crossed Kendra’s mind that they might release him. Or even that he would still be functional. Muriel had been imprisoned. She was locked up with Bahumat deep beneath a verdant hill. Apparently nobody had told Mendigo.
The wooden figure rushed at Kendra. Although she had grown since she last saw the limberjack, he was still an inch or two taller. Kendra turned and ran along the pier back to the boardwalk. She could hear him gaining, wooden feet clacking against wooden planks.
He caught up to her at the bottom of the gazebo stairs. Kendra whirled and tried to grab at him, hoping to catch hold of a limb and unhinge it. He nimbly evaded her grasp and caught hold of her around the waist, flipping her upside down. She struggled and he changed his grip, pinning her arms to her sides.
Kendra was caught in a helpless position — facing away from him, upside down, arms immobilized. She tried to wriggle and flail, but Mendigo was alarmingly strong. As the oversized puppet trotted away from the pond, it became apparent she was going wherever he wanted.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Reunion
Seth stripped off another piece of the spongy wall and placed it in his mouth. The texture reminded him of citrus pulp. He chewed until he was left with a small amount of tough, tasteless matter, which he swallowed. Puckering his lips, Seth pressed his mouth against the wall of the cocoon. The harder he kissed the wall, the more moisture flowed into his mouth. Water with a hint of honeydew.
Olloch roared again, and the cocoon shuddered. Seth flopped around as the cocoon lurched from side to side. By the time he braced himself, the movement stopped. Seth was growing accustomed to the roars and the flurries of motion, although the thought that he was listening to a roar from inside a cocoon inside the belly of a demon remained peculiar.
Seth had tried to sleep. When he had first started dozing, the roars had awakened him every time. Eventually, with the help of his mounting fatigue, he had managed a few fitful stretches of slumber.
Time was becoming meaningless in the endless blackness. Only the growls and motion of the demon interrupted the monotony. That and sna
cking on fragments of the padded walls. How long had he been inside of Olloch? A day? Two days? Three?
At least Seth remained reasonably comfortable inside his womblike enclosure. It fit him rather snugly. There was just enough room to move his arms when he wanted to pick at the walls. Even when he was flung around, he never got injured, because the walls were soft, and there was not enough room for him to get shaken into dangerous positions.
With so little space, it seemed the air would run out in a matter of minutes, but his breathing remained unstrained. Being swallowed by Olloch had made no difference — the air remained fresh. The closeness of the cocoon made him a little claustrophobic, but in the darkness, when he lay still, he could pretend the enclosure was spacious.
Olloch gave a particularly ferocious roar. The cocoon quaked. The demon emitted a couple of prolonged growls followed by the loudest roar Seth had yet heard. Seth wondered if the demon was in a fight. The snarls and roars continued. It felt oddly like the cocoon was being squeezed, first by his head, then near his shoulders, then at his waist, then at his knees and feet. The vicious growls continued unabated.
The cocoon was jostled one final time and silence followed. Seth lay in stillness, waiting for the turbulence to resume. He waited for several minutes, expecting more roaring at any moment. The growls had been almost desperate. Now all was eerily calm. Could Olloch have been killed? Or perhaps the demon had won a battle and then collapsed in exhaustion. It was easily the longest interval of motionless silence Seth had experienced since being swallowed. Uneventful minutes accumulated until Seth felt his eyelids drooping. He slipped into a deep slumber.
* * *
Mendigo dumped Kendra onto the ground. A thick carpet of wildflowers cushioned her landing. The air smelled of blossoms and fruit. As disoriented as the dash through the woods had left her, Kendra knew where they were: at the site where the Forgotten Chapel once stood. The last order from Muriel to Mendigo must have been to bring Kendra to the chapel.
[Fablehaven 02] - Rise of the Evening Star Page 20
