Fablehaven: The Complete Series (16 page)

“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?”

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.

“You ought to push me,” Dale grumbled.

“How did it feel being a walrus?” Kendra asked.

“Is that what I was?”

“A mutant humpbacked walrus with a deformed tail,” she clarified.

“I wish we had a camera! It was weird breathing through my back. And it was hard to move. Nothing felt right.”

“Might be safer not to converse so loudly,” Grandpa said.

“I couldn’t talk,” Seth said more quietly. “I felt like I still knew how, but the words came out all tangled. My mouth and tongue were different.”

“What about Muriel?” Kendra asked. “If she unties that last knot, will she be free?”

“She was originally bound by thirteen knots,” Grandpa said. “She can loosen none on her own, though it doesn’t seem to stop her from trying. But other mortals can undo the knots by asking a favor and blowing on them. Powerful magic holds the knot in place. When released, Muriel can channel that magic into granting the favor.”

“So if you ever need her help again . . .”

“I will look elsewhere,” Grandpa said. “I never wanted her to get down to a single knot. Freeing her is not an option.”

“I’m sorry I ended up helping her,” Seth said.

“Did you learn anything from the ordeal?” Grandpa asked.

Seth lowered his head. “I feel really bad about the fairy. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.” Grandpa made no response, and Seth kept studying his shoes. “I shouldn’t have messed around with magical creatures,” he finally admitted.

Grandpa placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know you meant no harm. Around here, what you don’t know can hurt you. And others. If you have learned to be more careful and compassionate in the future, and to show greater respect for the inhabitants of this preserve, then at least some good came of all this.”

“I learned something too,” Kendra said. “Humans and walruses should never mix.”

Chapter 9

Hugo

The triangular wooden board rested on Kendra’s lap. She studied the pegs, planning her next jump. Beside her, Lena gently tilted back and forth on a rocker, watching the moon rise. From the porch, only a few fairies could be seen gliding around the garden. Fireflies twinkled among them in the silver moonlight.

“Not many fairies out tonight,” Kendra said.

“It may be some time before the fairies return in force to our gardens,” Lena said.

“Can’t you explain everything to them?”

Lena chuckled. “They would listen to your grandfather before they would ever heed me.”

“Weren’t you sort of one of them?”

“That is the problem. Watch.” Lena closed her eyes and began to sing softly. Her high, trilling voice gave life to a wistful melody. Several fairies darted over from the garden, hovering around her in a loose semicircle, interrupting the warbling tune with fervent chirping.

Lena quit singing and said something in an unintelligible language. The fairies chirped back. Lena made a final remark, and the fairies flew away.

“What were they saying?” Kendra asked.

“They told me I should be ashamed to sing a naiadic tune,” Lena replied. “They detest reminders that I was once a nymph, especially if those reminders imply that I am at peace with my decision.”

“They acted pretty upset.”

“Much of their time is spent mocking mortals. Any time one of us crosses over to mortality, it makes the others wonder what they might be missing. Especially if we appear content. They ridicule me mercilessly.”

“You don’t let it get to you?”

“Not really. They do know how to needle me. They tease me about growing old—my hair, my wrinkles. They ask how I will enjoy being buried in a box.” Lena frowned, gazing thoughtfully into the night. “I felt my age today when you called for help.”

“What do you mean?” Kendra jumped a peg on the triangular wooden board.

“I tried to rush to your aid, but ended up sprawled on the kitchen floor. Your grandfather reached your side before I did, and he is no athlete.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“In my youth I would have been there in a flash. I used to be handy in an emergency. Now I come hobbling to the rescue.”

“You still get around great.” Kendra was running out of moves. She had already stranded a peg.

Lena shook her head. “I would not last a minute on the trapeze or the tightrope. Once I played on them with facile agility. The curse of mortality. You spend the first portion of your life learning, growing stronger, more capable. And then, through no fault of your own, your body begins to fail. You regress. Strong limbs become feeble, keen senses grow dull, hardy constitutions deteriorate. Beauty withers. Organs quit. You remember yourself in your prime, and wonder where that person went. As your wisdom and experience are peaking, your traitorous body becomes a prison.”

Kendra had no moves left on her perforated board. Three pegs remained. “I never thought of it that way.”

Lena took the board from Kendra and began setting up the pegs. “In their youth, mortals behave more like nymphs. Adulthood seems impossibly distant, let alone the enfeeblement of old age. But ponderously, inevitably, it overtakes you. I find it a frustrating, humbling, infuriating experience.”

“When we talked before, you said you would not change your decision,” Kendra reminded her.

“True, given the opportunity, I would choose Patton every time. And now that I have experienced mortality, I do not imagine I could be content with my former life. But the pleasures of mortality, the thrills of living, come with a price. Pain, illness, the decline of age, the loss of loved ones—those things I could do without.”

The pegs were set up. Lena began jumping them. “I am impressed by how glibly most mortals confront the debilitation of the body. Patton. Your grandparents. Many others. They just accept it. I have always feared aging. The inevitability of it haunts me. Ever since I abandoned the pond, the prospect of death has been a menacing shadow in the back of my mind.”

She jumped the final peg, leaving only one. Kendra had seen her do it before, but had not yet succeeded in copying her moves.

Lena sighed softly. “Because of my nature, I may have to endure old age for decades longer than regular human beings. The humiliating finale to the mortal condition.”

“At least you’re a peg-jumping genius,” Kendra said.

Lena smiled. “The solace of my winter years.”

“You can still paint, and cook, and do all sorts of things.”

“I do not mean to complain. These are not problems to share with young minds.”

“It’s okay. You aren’t scaring me. You’re right, I can’t really picture being grown up. Part of me wonders if high school will ever really happen. Sometimes I think maybe I’ll die young.”

The door to the house opened, and Grandpa’s head poked out. “Kendra, I need to have some words with you and Seth.”

“Okay, Grandpa.”

“Come to the study.”

Lena stood, motioning for Kendra to hurry along. Kendra entered the house and followed Grandpa into the study. Seth was already seated in one of the oversized chairs, drumming his fingers on the armrest. Kendra claimed the other one while Grandpa settled in behind his desk.