Fablehaven: The Complete Series (128 page)

“Stop her!”

“Grab her!”

“Thief!”

“Traitor!”

Lena burst from the water at the end of the pier, leaping into the air like a dolphin. Patton caught her in a strong embrace, dousing his shirt and trousers in the process. She wore a shimmering green slip. Her long, glossy hair hung heavy and wet, draped over her shoulders like a shawl. In one webbed hand, she gripped the silver bowl from the Fairy Queen’s shrine. Lena leaned her forehead against Patton’s, then her lips found his. As they kissed, the webbing between her fingers dissolved.

All around the pier, naiads wailed and cursed.

Cradling Lena in his arms, Patton walked back toward the gazebo. Kendra and Seth descended the stairs to the pier. Patton deposited Lena on her feet.

“Hi, Kendra,” Lena said with a warm smile. She was familiar—her eyes, her face, her voice—and yet so different. She stood a couple of inches taller than before, her skin smooth and unblemished, her body curvy and fit.

“You’re beautiful,” Kendra said, reaching to give her a hug.

Lena stepped back, grasping Kendra’s hands instead. “I’ll get you soaked. You’ve grown so tall, dear. And Seth! You’re a giant!”

“Only compared to tiny naiads,” Seth said, looking pleased. Standing straighter, he was more than half a head taller than her.

“You’ll only have Patton for three days,” Kendra reminded her friend, concerned that Lena would end up regretting her decision.

Lena handed Kendra the untarnished bowl, then gazed adoringly at her husband, caressing his face. “I would have left the pond for three minutes.”

Tilting his head down, Patton rubbed his nose against hers.

“I think they need some alone time,” Seth said disgustedly, tugging on Kendra.

Patton locked eyes with Seth. “Don’t go. We have much to discuss.”

“The yellow and purple tent is soundproof,” Seth said.

“Sounds perfect.” Holding Lena’s hand, Patton led her up the stairs and into the gazebo.

“Not long before you died,” Lena said, “you told me we would be together again someday, young and healthy. At the time I assumed you meant heaven.”

Patton gave her a wry smile. “I probably meant this. But heaven will be nice too.”

“I can’t tell you how thrilling it feels to be young again,” Lena gushed. “You look fairly boyish yourself. You’re what, thirty-six?”

“That’s not far off.”

Stopping, Lena pulled her hand from his and folded her arms. “Wait a minute. Early in our marriage, you came forward in time to visit me, and you never told me.”

“Evidently not.”

“You and your secrets.” She returned her hand to his. They continued across the field toward the striped tent. “What were you doing before you came here?”

“Last thing I did was press a button on the Chronometer,” Patton said in a confidential tone, nodding to the sphere Seth was carrying. “I was hiding it in the manor. Before I locked it up, I pushed a button that would send me forward in time to the next instance when the button was pressed.”

“I pressed it,” Seth announced.

“You didn’t tell me about the artifact until you were in your sixties,” Lena scolded. “I rarely knew what you were up to.”

“We just had a fight,” Patton said. “About the drapes in our bedroom. Remember? It started about the drapes, and ended up being about how I wasn’t living up to my promises—”

“I remember that spat!” Lena said nostalgically. “In fact, that may have been the last time you ever raised your voice at me. That was a hard period for both of us. Take heart. Not long afterward, we hit our stride. We had a beautiful marriage, Patton. You made me feel like a queen, and reciprocating was effortless.”

“Resist telling me too much,” Patton said, covering his ears. “I would rather watch it unfold.”

They reached the tent and entered. Patton dropped the flap to shield the door. They sat down on the floor, facing one another.

“I can’t believe you left the pond so eagerly,” Kendra said to Lena. “I’ve wanted you out of there ever since you entered.”

“You were sweet to come for me,” Lena replied. “I remember when you first tried to talk me out of it. My mind was cloudy. It functioned differently. I had lost much of who I became in mortality. Not enough to really fit in, but enough to stay put. Life in the pond is indescribably easy. Virtually meaningless, but devoid of pain, almost devoid of thought. There were many things I did not miss about mortality. In a way, returning to the water was like dying. I no longer had to cope with living. Until I saw Patton, I wanted to stay dead.”

“You feel lucid now?” Patton asked.

“Like my old self,” Lena said. “Or I guess I should say like my young self. With my present mind, with or without you, Patton, I would never choose the numbness of the pond. That spell grips me only when I’m in there. Tell me about this plague.”

Kendra and Seth related all the details about the plague. Seth told about his meeting with Graulas and the cords he had seen connected to Ephira at the manor. Lena was saddened to hear that Grandma, Grandpa, and the others had become shadows. Patton expressed surprise at the mention of Navarog.

“If Navarog has truly emerged from captivity, you have not heard the last from him. In lore, Navarog is widely acknowledged as the most corrupt and dangerous of all dragons. Recognized as a prince among demons, he will stop at nothing to liberate the monstrosities confined in Zzyzx.”

Next the conversation shifted to the artifacts. Kendra and Seth shared all they knew about the five artifacts, and recounted how they had recovered the healing artifact from the inverted tower. Kendra went on to outline her exploits at Lost Mesa, and told how the Knights of the Dawn lacked information about one of the secret preserves.

“So the inverted tower held the Sands of Sanctity,” Patton said. “I never checked. I wanted to leave the traps armed and undisturbed.”

“Why did you take the Chronometer from Lost Mesa?” Kendra asked.

Patton scratched his mustache. “The more I thought about the potential of those artifacts to open the gates of the great demon prison, the less I liked how many people knew where they were hidden. The Knights of the Dawn mean well, but organizations like that have a way of keeping secrets alive and helping them spread. I knew only one person in the world I would trust with such vital information. Me. So I took it upon myself to uncover all I could about the artifacts, in order to make them harder to find. The only artifact I ever actually removed was the one at Lost Mesa.”

“How did you get by the dragon?” Kendra asked.

Patton shrugged. “I have my share of talents, among them taming dragons. I am far from the most accomplished dragon tamer you will meet—barely passable, in fact—but I can normally conduct a conversation without losing control of my faculties. The artifact at Lost Mesa was protected by a wicked dragon named Ranticus, rotten to the core.”

“Ranticus was the name of the dragon in the museum,” Kendra recalled.

“Correct. Vast networks of caverns lurk below Lost Mesa. After much exploration, I learned of a band of goblins with access to the lair where Ranticus dwelled. The goblins worshipped him, using their secret entrance to bring him tributes—food, mostly. Slaying a dragon is no small feat, a task more for wizards than for warriors. But there is a rare weed called daughter-of-despair from which you can derive a toxin known as dragonsbane, the only venom capable of poisoning a dragon. Finding the weed and formulating the poison was a quest all its own. Once I had the toxin, disguised as a goblin, I brought Ranticus a dead ox saturated with the poison.”

“Couldn’t Ranticus smell it?” Seth wondered.

“Dragonsbane is imperceptible. If not, it would never work against a dragon. And I was heavily disguised, down to wearing goblin skin over my own.”

“You poisoned him?” Seth exclaimed. “It worked? Then you really were a dragon slayer!”

“I suppose I can own up to it now. During my lifetime I did not want word getting around.”

“You started a few of those rumors yourself,” Lena chided.

Patton cocked his head and tugged at his collar. “Vainglory aside, after disposing of Ranticus, I defeated the guardians of the artifact, a troop of ghostly knights, in a battle I would rather forget. Then, in order to avoid suspicions that I had removed the Chronometer, I needed to restore a guardian to the caves. When other business took me to Wyrmroost, one of the dragon sanctuaries, I swiped an egg and hatched it at Lost Mesa. I named the dragon Chalize and kept an eye on her during her infancy. Before long, the goblins took to her, and my assistance was no longer required. Some years later, I donated the bones of Ranticus to the museum.”

“Have you killed other dragons?” Seth asked eagerly.

“Killing a dragon is not always a good thing,” Patton said earnestly. “Dragons are more humanlike than most magical creatures. They have a great deal of self-possession. Some are good, some are evil, many are in between. No two dragons are identical, and few are very much alike.”

“And no dragons appreciate it when somebody outside their community slays one of their kind,” Lena said. “Most consider it an unpardonable crime. Which is why I insisted that Patton keep his dragon slayings unconfirmed.”

Seth stabbed a finger at Lena. “You said ‘slayings.’ As in multiple dragons.”

“Now would be a poor time to relive past adventures unrelated to our present predicament,” Patton said. “I can fill in some of your other missing connections. I know a lot about Ephira. Much more than I would like.” He lowered his eyes, the muscles tensing in his jaw. “Hers is a tragic story I have never shared. But I think the time has come.”

“You used to tell me I would hear this story one day,” Lena said. “Is this what you meant?”

“I expect so,” Patton replied, folding his hands. “Long ago, my uncle Marshal Burgess ran Fablehaven. He was never officially the caretaker—my proud grandfather retained the title but delegated all responsibility to Marshal, who managed the preserve admirably. Although not the best in a fight, Marshal was a skillful diplomat and a wonderful mentor. Women were his big weakness. He had an undeniable knack for attracting them, but he could never settle on one. Marshal weathered numerous scandals and three failed marriages before becoming infatuated with a certain hamadryad.

“Of all the tree nymphs at Fablehaven, she was the brightest, the bubbliest, the most flirtatious, always laughing, always leading a game or a song. Once she caught his fancy, Marshal became obsessed. When Marshal gave chase, I never knew of a woman who could resist him, and this vivacious hamadryad was no exception. Their courtship was brief and passionate. Amid ardent promises of everlasting fidelity, she renounced the trees and married him.

“I do not believe Marshal planned to betray her. I am convinced that he sincerely believed he would finally settle down, that winning a hamadryad would allow him at long last to conquer his wandering heart. But his behavioral patterns were deeply ingrained, and before long, the infatuation began to wither.

“The hamadryad truly was a remarkable woman worthy of a loving mate. She quickly became my favorite relative. In fact, it was through her guidance that I became fairystruck. Tragically, our relationship was short-lived.

“Within months, the marriage unraveled. The hamadryad was crushed. She had forsaken immortality under false pretenses. The betrayal cut her to the core. It poisoned her reason. She abandoned Marshal and disappeared. I searched, but failed to find her. It was years before finally I pieced together what happened to Ephira.”

“Your aunt is the shadow lady!” Seth exclaimed.

“I’m beginning to see why you withheld this story,” Lena remarked sadly.

“Ephira became obsessed with regaining her status as a hamadryad,” Patton continued. “She did not care that such a feat was impossible. She saw it as the only possible compensation for her unjust treatment. As part of her desperate pursuit, she loosed one of Muriel Taggert’s knots. She later visited the swamp hag, who directed her to Kurisock. It was finally the demon who struck a bargain with Ephira that would enable her to return to a nonmortal life.

“To understand what comes next, you must realize that the life of a hamadryad is inextricably connected to a particular tree. When the tree dies, she dies with it, unless the connection is passed through a seed of the original tree to a new one. Because their trees can be reborn as seedlings, hamadryads are virtually immortal. But the tree also constitutes a weakness, a secret that must be zealously guarded.

“When Ephira fell to mortality, she lost the connection with her tree. But any magic that can be done can also be undone. Ephira still knew where her tree was located. Under orders from Kurisock, she cut it down with her own hands, burned it, and brought the last seed to the demon.

“The bond between Ephira and her tree may have been sundered, but like all broken magic, it was mendable. Using his unusual gifts, Kurisock bound himself to the seed, and through the seed to Ephira, reforging her connection.”

“But she didn’t turn back into a hamadryad,” Kendra realized, chills racing down her back. “She became something else.”