Fablehaven: The Complete Series (127 page)

Patton grinned. “He knows how much I like using swords.”

“It isn’t fair,” Kendra complained. “He has hooves.”

Patton patted her shoulder. “Pray for me.”

“Good luck,” Seth said. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Patton said. “I can always use an extra feather in my cap. I just regret missing the original exchange! A boy your age criticizing a centaur would be a sight worth seeing!”

Kendra and Seth set off toward the boardwalk.

“If you get Patton killed, I’ll never forgive you,” she seethed.

“He knows how to handle himself,” Seth replied.

“You haven’t seen the centaurs in action,” Kendra said. “I don’t want to watch this.”

As Kendra and Seth took up positions on the boardwalk, the satyrs cleared the last of the tents from the field. Kendra noticed one satyr toting a reluctant dwarf under one arm. She glanced back at the pond, but no naiads had surfaced. What would Lena think if she knew Patton was here, not a photograph, but the actual man in his prime?

Walking toward the boardwalk, Patton waved at the onlookers. Cheering satyrs and dryads returned the gesture. He seemed to be positioning himself in order to give everyone a good view of the fight.

Cloudwing trotted toward the boardwalk with a regal bearing. He raised a muscular arm. “The contest between Patton Burgess and (he made a strange, braying sound) will commence on my mark. Stand ready. Go.” He dropped his arm.

Broadhoof came loping across the field, face stern, massive muscles rippling. Patton stood his ground, hands at his sides. Broadhoof increased his speed to a furious gallop. “Prepare to defend yourself, human!” Broadhoof roared.

Kendra fought the urge to turn away. Patton looked small and defenseless as the raging centaur bore down on him. He was going to be flattened! At the last second, Patton skipped to the side with the nonchalance of a matador and the centaur raced past him.

Broadhoof wheeled around for a second charge. “I am not here to dance,” the centaur declared. If anything, Broadhoof came at Patton even faster the second time. Patton feinted to the left. When Broadhoof swerved, Patton stepped in the other direction. As Broadhoof thundered past him, Patton swiveled and punched the centaur squarely in the flank.

The blow knocked the centaur crooked. With pain etched on his features, Broadhoof stumbled badly, narrowly avoiding a fall. The spectators groaned empathetically, then applauded, the satyrs in particular hooting their approval.

Broadhoof slowed and turned. Fixing Patton with a murderous glare, the centaur walked toward him. Straightening his shirt, Patton calmly awaited his arrival. When Broadhoof drew near to Patton, he reared, lashing out with his sharp hooves. Patton backed away just enough to stay out of range.

Advancing patiently, Broadhoof reared again and again, front hooves flailing. Each time Patton kept just out of reach. “I am not here to dance,” Patton mimicked with a smirk.

The spectators chuckled.

Angered, Broadhoof curveted recklessly forward, stamping and bucking and swinging his fists. Dancing nimbly, ducking and twisting, Patton ended up at the side of the wild centaur and vaulted onto his back, clamping Broadhoof in a headlock while riding him like a rodeo cowboy. Leaping and plunging, Broadhoof reached back for Patton. Taking the opportunity to release the headlock and seize one of Broadhoof’s hands, Patton slid off his back and abruptly wrenched the centaur to the ground.

With one palm braced against Broadhoof’s meaty forearm, Patton bent the centaur’s hand to an unnatural angle. He also appeared to have one of his fingers in a painful lock. The centaur’s face contorted in agony. When Broadhoof endeavored to rise, Kendra heard a sharp crack. The centaur quit struggling, and Patton shifted his grip.

“I have the upper hand here,” Patton warned loudly. “Yield, or I’ll break your bones one by one.”

“Never,” Broadhoof gasped venomously.

Cupping one hand, Patton momentarily relinquished his hold in order to clap the centaur on the ear. Broadhoof howled. Patton quickly reestablished the hold, levering the centaur’s arm to a more vicious angle.

“This contest is over, Broadhoof,” Patton said. “I don’t want to leave you permanently maimed, or to deprive you of your senses. Yield.”

Sweat shined on Broadhoof’s flushed face. “Never.”

The crowd was now silent.

Patton added pressure to the trembling arm. “Which is worse? To yield, or to lie before an audience while a human humiliates you with his bare hands?”

“Slay me,” Broadhoof pleaded.

“Centaurs are nearly immortal,” Patton said. “My intent is not to prove why we say ‘nearly.’ I vowed to best you, not to dispatch you. If I must, I’ll simply leave you incapacitated for whatever time remains to you, an irrefutable monument to human superiority.”

Cloudwing walked forward. “You are at his mercy, Broadhoof. If Patton refuses to end your life, you must yield.”

“I yield,” Broadhoof relented.

The crowd roared. Kendra stared in shocked relief, hardly noticing as the enthusiastic satyrs jostled against her. She saw Patton help Broadhoof to his feet, but could not hear the words they exchanged over the clamor around her. Kendra began shouldering through the crowd to get to the lawn. She had not fully appreciated how much the satyrs disliked the centaurs until she witnessed the exultant tears they shed as they embraced one another.

As Broadhoof plodded away with Cloudwing, Kendra and Seth ran to Patton. None of the satyrs or naiads were thronging him. They apparently preferred celebrating at a distance.

“That was incredible,” Seth said. “I heard something snap . . .”

“A finger,” Patton said. “Remember this day, Seth, and take great care before you offend a centaur. I despise injuring a vanquished opponent. Curse Broadhoof for his stubborn pride!” Patton clenched his jaw. Were his eyes misty?

“He forced the situation,” Kendra reminded him.

“I fought him because the brute would have it no other way,” Patton said. “I hurt him for the same reason. Yet I cannot help admiring his resistance to yield. Breaking him was not pleasurable, even knowing that he would have killed me had our roles been reversed.”

“I’m so sorry it happened,” Seth said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. One moment.” Patton cupped his hands around his mouth and raised his voice. “Satyrs, dryads, and other spectators—but most especially satyrs. The price of these festivities is that you return the field to how it looked before. I want every tent stake where it belongs. Do we have an understanding?”

With no direct response, the satyrs moved to carry out his orders.

Patton turned back to Kendra and Seth. “Now, if I comprehend the situation correctly, Lena is over yonder in the pond?”

“Right,” Kendra said. “She’s a naiad again.”

Patton placed his hands on his hips and sniffed. “Then I expect I had better go say hello to the missus.”

Chapter 20

History

Even though Lena went back into the water against her will, she has voluntarily remained there,” Patton recapped as he, Seth, and Kendra overlooked the pier from a gazebo. Although he had set off full of confidence to converse with Lena, he now seemed nervous about her potential reaction.

“Right,” Kendra said. “But she has always been very responsive to any mention of you. I think she’ll come when you call.”

“Naiads are peculiar creatures,” Patton said. “Of all the beings at Fablehaven, I consider them the most selfish. Fairies take notice if you flatter them. Centaurs get riled if you insult them. It is difficult to win the attention of a naiad. Their only preoccupation is their next diversion.”

“Then why do they bother drowning people?” Seth asked.

“For sport,” Patton said. “Why else? There is little deliberate malice in it. Swimming is all they know. They find the idea of water killing somebody hilarious. They can never get enough of it. Plus, naiads are avid collectors. Lena once mentioned they have a chamber full of prized trinkets and skeletons.”

“But Lena is different from other naiads,” Kendra said. “She cares about you.”

“A victory years in the making,” Patton sighed, “hopefully not undone by her return to the water. Her interest in me was what eventually separated Lena from the other naiads. Little by little, she began to care for someone other than herself. She began to enjoy my company. The others loathed her for it. They despised having a reason to wonder whether there might be more to existence than wallowing in fruitless self-absorption. But now I worry that her mind may have reverted. You say Lena remembers our marriage fondly?”

“After you died, I don’t think she ever really found her place,” Kendra said. “She went out to experience the world, but ended up back here. I know she hated growing old.”

“She would,” Patton smiled. “Lena dislikes many aspects of mortality. We’ve been married five years—from my point of view, I mean—and our relationship has not been easy. We had a very stormy argument not long before I came here. We have yet to make up. Back in my time, if Lena received an offer to return to the water, I suspect she might gladly accept it. I’m encouraged to hear that our marriage survives in the end. Shall we find out if she still wants me?” He studied the water with trepidation.

“We need her to grab the bowl,” Kendra said. “At least to try.” As they had conversed in the gazebo, Kendra had explained how she became fairykind, and how she hoped to use the bowl to approach the Fairy Queen a second time.

“I wish I had my violin,” Patton lamented. “I know just the melody I would use. Wooing Lena the first time around was hard enough, but at least I had time and resources. I hope she responds favorably. I would prefer wrestling another centaur to learning that her affection for me has cooled.”

“Only one way to find out,” Seth said.

Patton descended the stairs from the gazebo to the pier, tugging on his sleeves and smoothing his shirt. Seth moved to follow him but Kendra held him back. “We should watch from here.”

Patton strode along the pier. “I’m looking for Lena Burgess!” he called. “My wife.”

Numerous overlapping voices responded.

“It couldn’t be.”

“He’s dead.”

“They were chanting his name earlier.”

“Must be a trick.”

“It sounds just like him.”

Several heads surfaced as he reached the end of the pier.

“He’s back!”

“Oh, no!”

“The devil himself!”

“Don’t let her see!”

The water near the end of the pier became turbulent. Lena poked her head up, eyes wide, and was promptly dragged under. After a moment she resurfaced. “Patton?”

“I’m here, Lena,” he said. “What are you doing in the water?” He kept his voice conversational with a hint of curiosity.

Lena’s head disappeared again. The water churned.

Voices resumed.

“She saw him!”

“What do we do?”

“She’s too wriggly!”

Lena yelled, “Unhand me or I’ll leave the pond this instant!”

A moment later her head rose above the water again. She gazed raptly at Patton. “How are you here?”

“I came forward in time,” he said. “I am only visiting for three days. We could use some assistance—”

Lena held up a hand to silence him. “Say no more, human,” she demanded sternly. “After much travail, I have reclaimed my true life. Do not attempt to befuddle me. I need time alone to realign my thoughts.” With a wink, she disappeared beneath the water.

Kendra heard the naiads murmuring in surprised approval. Patton did not move.

“You heard her,” a snide voice called to him. “Why don’t you crawl back into your grave!”

A few nervous titters followed the comment. Then Kendra heard other voices, desperate ones.