Fablehaven: The Complete Series (229 page)

“I promise,” Kendra said.

“I swear,” Warren offered.

“Link arms,” Bracken instructed, rising. “Breathe through your mouths and ignore your senses. I suggest we jog.”

Elbows linked, the three of them broke into a trot, breathing only through their mouths. Kendra wondered if her fairykind status would offer extra protection from the enchantment. After all, she was immune to most magical forms of mind control. But experience had shown that although her mind was protected, her emotions were vulnerable to manipulation, like from Tanu’s potions or magical fear. She worried that the attraction of the fruit might attack emotion more than intellect.

Ahead of them, the trees looked like what autumn aspires to be but never quite attains. Kendra marveled at the variety and vibrancy of the leaf colors: fiery reds and oranges, deep blues and purples, electric yellows and greens. She also saw leaves of more peculiar shades, including bright pink, shiny turquoise, metallic silver, and radiant white. Some leaves featured stripes or other patterns. Even the trunks of the trees displayed unusual colors, ranging from lava red to sparkling gold to midnight black.

As they passed beneath the trees, the plump fruit came into view. Different from the leaves, the fruit tended to exhibit opalescent blends of color, smooth skin shimmering like mother-of-pearl. Other fruit possessed the rich shades of fine jewels: sapphire blues, emerald greens, and ruby reds. Kendra found herself fascinated, unable to help speculating what such beautiful fruit might taste like.

But it was not until the scents of the Beckoning Grove began to trickle past her clogged nostrils that Kendra felt a dangerous pull from the fruit. The fragrance awakened hunger like she had never known, a desperate starvation that she instinctively knew could be quickly cured by the fat fruit dangling within reach. With the hunger came a profound thirst, along with a certainty that the juices inside the fruit would satisfy the need as no thirst had been quenched before.

Kendra knew she could not be experiencing the full smell of the place. A carnal impulse screamed for her to tear the dirt balls from her nostrils so she could luxuriate in the undiluted aroma of the orchard. Her reason tried to support the urge, telling her that smelling was not eating. Why should she needlessly forgo the most stimulating smell of her life? The aroma alone would cause no harm!

Bracken released Kendra, swatting at Warren’s hands as he reached to unplug his nostrils. If she exhaled sharply, Kendra felt certain she could blow out the dirt pellets. Why not? She was salivating almost painfully. The full scent of the grove might actually provide enough limited satisfaction to help distract her from the raging hunger.

“Remember!” Bracken shouted. “This orchard is a death trap! The pleasures it promises are garish wrappings over deadly gifts. Remember that we chose not to partake. Force your mind to control your base urges.”

Kendra resisted.

Warren slapped himself and then bit down on his thumb.

Bracken linked arms with them again. “Take a deep breath, hold it, close your eyes, and let me lead you.”

Kendra obeyed. With her breath held, the call of the fruit became less immediate. She tried to see the situation logically. What would those sumptuous fragrances do to her without the pellets in her nose? She had imagined the grove would smell good, but had ignored the desperation that smell might awaken in her appetite. If she removed the pellets, the smell would probably overwhelm her reason.

It was difficult to run while holding her breath. After a time she simply had to breathe, so she began gulping down air, trying to compensate for lost oxygen. With those deep breaths, the scents of the grove assaulted her as never before. The overpowering aroma promised more than a way to sate her appetite and slake her thirst. The smells promised ecstasy. They promised rest. They promised peace.

She kept her eyes squeezed shut and resisted. The smells were lies. False promises. Her instincts rejected the mental assertions. How could something so sublime be hazardous? But Kendra kept her mind in control. As her breathing began to stabilize, she held her breath again. The lack of air quickly made her feel light-headed, so she promptly returned to inhaling.

She could hear Warren gasping greedily on the other side of Bracken. Their progress slowed. Then Bracken released Kendra. She opened her eyes. Bracken and Warren were on the ground wrestling.

“Go,” Bracken demanded. “You’re almost there. Leave the grove!”

Looking ahead, Kendra could see where the exotic orchard ended. Focusing on the clearing beyond the final trees, she started running. She was acutely aware that Bracken was no longer there to help her. Her solitude increased the weight of the temptation. She tried to envision a bite of fruit blasting her to pieces, but her body would not believe the image. Maybe Warren had misunderstood the Sphinx. Maybe the grove would provide all the joy its aroma promised! Bracken and Warren might already have given up. They might be behind her right now, delicious juice dribbling down their chins, laughing at her for fleeing.

Kendra glanced back. Bracken was dragging a thrashing Warren by his feet.

Turning forward, Kendra saw that she was almost out of the grove. What if she removed the dirt pellets just for the last few steps? She wanted at least one unobstructed whiff of the grove before she exited.

No. She had promised herself, and her friends, that she would pass through the grove without trying the fruit. Even with the best intentions, to smell the fruit might lead to tasting the fruit. Lowering her head, she charged out of the orchard, raced across the clearing beyond, and took cover behind a bush.

Looking back, she saw Bracken staggering forward with Warren draped over his shoulder. They were not yet out from under the shadows of the dazzling trees. Should she return to help? Kendra wasn’t sure she could trust herself.

With labored strides, Bracken carried Warren out of the grove. As Bracken crossed the clearing, Warren struggled less. Silver liquid flowed freely from one of Bracken’s nostrils. Perspiration gleamed on his face. He dumped Warren on the ground beside Kendra.

“I’m so sorry,” Warren panted. “I’m so sorry.” He snorted out a dirt ball. Kendra cleared hers out as well.

Bracken produced a frayed handkerchief and held it to his nose. A wet silver stain spread across the threadbare material. “Don’t mention it.”

“Silver blood?” Kendra asked.

“I’m not quite human,” Bracken said.

“If your nose is bleeding, did the dirt come out?” Warren asked.

“Of one nostril, yes,” Bracken said.

“How did you resist?” Warren asked in genuine amazement.

“It wasn’t easy,” Bracken said. “I’m sure it helped that I have lived a long time. And it helped that this is not my true form.”

“It helped that you rule,” Warren said. “You have an iron will. I owe you my life. Please forgive me. One of my nostrils came unplugged as we were running. After that, my rational side went on vacation.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Bracken said. “I felt the draw of the fruit. It was almost too much. Had I been alone, without responsibility, I might have failed the test.”

“Both of you really smelled it?” Kendra asked, a little jealous.

“My nostril cleared when Warren punched me,” Bracken said. “The scent was intoxicating. It may have been fortunate that blood replaced the dirt.”

“I’m so sorry,” Warren said. “I was out of control. All I knew was that I needed that fruit at all cost!”

“You don’t feel that way now?” Kendra asked.

“The memory is appealing,” Warren said. “But the irresistible urge is gone.”

“We should move on,” Bracken said.

“I dropped my sword,” Warren said.

“That was way back there,” Bracken said. “The first time you started to stray.”

“I really wanted to clear my nose and fully smell the grove,” Kendra confessed.

“Me too,” Warren said. “Be glad you didn’t. The full smell was a hundred times more compelling. I take it we leave the sword?”

“I don’t want to risk the grove again,” Bracken said. “The sword provided more the illusion of security than any actual protection. Stealth is our real weapon today.”

“A fairy,” Kendra said, pointing.

The fairy glided toward them, gauzy wings flowing more than flapping, as if she were underwater. She had dark skin and long dark hair, and wore lavender wrappings that matched her wings. Tiny golden trinkets adorned her arms and ankles.

The fairy alighted on Bracken’s shoulder, and he moved the handkerchief away from his face. She caressed his cheek. From the look on her face to the expressive language of her movements, Kendra had never seen a fairy express such tender concern. The fairy placed her brown hand on the side of his nose. There was a brief glow, and then she used a diaphanous strip of material to clean the flecks of blood from the rim of his nostril.

“Can you guide us to the sealed shrine?” Bracken asked gently.

The fairy nodded eagerly. Kendra felt certain the fairy was in love. Apparently the persuasive influence of her fairykind status would not be needed today.

“Could you gather a few of your sisters to help us avoid trouble?” Bracken asked.

The fairy looked suspicious, as if the mention of other fairies had suddenly spoiled much of the fun.

“I would consider it a tremendous favor,” Bracken said earnestly. Color rising in her cheeks, the fairy glided away.

“You have a way with fairies,” Warren said.

“I may lack my horn,” Bracken said, “but I’m still a unicorn. We’re sort of the rock stars of the fairy world.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the first fairy returned with several others. Most had dark skin and elaborate wings. Bracken was the obvious center of attention. The majority of the fairies whispered and tittered from afar. A couple of the boldest drifted close to gaze at him dreamily. One started mending a tear in his shirt.

Bracken laughed. “Do not concern yourselves with my attire. I need scouts. Who will keep us safe from harm?”

“I will,” chirped a chorus of tiny voices. Miniature hands waved as fairies vied for selection.

“I would be forever grateful for help from all of you,” Bracken said warmly. He made assignments regarding which fairies would rove far, which would stay close, and which direction they would cover. When the fairy who had first found them received the honor of serving as Bracken’s personal escort, she beamed with pride.

With their fairy entourage scouting ahead, they made faster progress than before, advancing without hesitation. Occasionally warnings would be passed back to them by their escorts, and they would pause or alter their course accordingly. More fairies joined the group, bringing Bracken nuts and berries and sips of water or honey cupped in fragrant leaves. Bracken shared these offerings with his companions. Eventually the steady parade of minute portions filled them and he had to ask for no further food to be brought.

At length, with the sun past midday, fairies returned reporting a sphinx up ahead guarding the sealed shrine. Bracken assured the fairies that a confrontation with the sphinx was necessary and asked them to hang back. Part of Kendra hoped that he would invite her to hang back as well, but Bracken made no such offer.

The iron dome came into view through the trees. The size surprised her. It was several stories tall, and looked big enough for a circus to perform inside. Devoid of any signs of corrosion, the dull, black iron absorbed the afternoon sunlight, reflecting nothing.

As they drew nearer, Kendra spotted the sphinx lounging in front of the dome, tail swishing back and forth. The sphinx had the body of a golden lion, with feathery wings tucked at the sides, and the head of a woman. She had large, almond-shaped eyes the color of jade, and wore a self-satisfied expression.

Bracken approached her, flanked by Warren and Kendra. The sphinx made no movement aside from her languidly waving tail.

“We want access to the dome,” Bracken said.

“Consider two sisters,” the sphinx intoned in a sultry voice. Audible to the ears, the words also penetrated directly to the mind. Though she spoke in a subdued manner, each word somehow arrived with the force of a shout. “The first is born of the second, whereupon the second is born of the first.”

Bracken glanced at Kendra and Warren. Kendra had no idea.

“The sisters born of each other are day and night,” Bracken replied.

The sphinx gave a sage nod. “I surround the world, yet I dwell within a thimble. I am outside of—”

“You are space,” Bracken interrupted.

The sphinx compressed her lips and gave him a hard stare. She spoke again. “In the morning I walk on four—”

“Stages of a man’s life,” Kendra blurted. All eyes turned to her. “It’s a famous one,” she apologized. “In the morning I walk on four legs, in the afternoon on two, in the evening on three—the more legs I have, the weaker I am. Something like that.”

The sphinx was fuming.